


Passport to Paradise

by GokuGirl



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-04
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 03:16:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 50,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4419107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GokuGirl/pseuds/GokuGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Saiya-jin prince meets a young slave boy who is harboring a secret so vast that it puts the very existence of the world at stake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Few things in this world resemble the canon, just to warn you. Goku never goes to Earth (which may or may not exist) so he's still Kakarotto (yet there is no Planet Vegeta). Vegeta's young in this fanfic, around the age of twenty-three or so. That makes Goku still a teenager.
> 
> Also, this story isn't backdating correctly. I actually finished it Dec. 4, 2007.

Vegeta had left his home alone, which was unusual, and without his father's permission, which was unthinkable. He was the crown prince of the Saiya-jin Empire, the one to inherit the throne upon his father's death, untimely or otherwise. It was uncommon enough for members of the royal family to travel beyond the gates of the palace, but to travel without a plethora of armed guards and groveling retainers was practically unheard of.  
  
Being trapped on the castle grounds had been incredibly hard on the young man. He sought adventure and knew he wouldn't ever be able to find that in a place he already knew inside and out. So, under the cover of night, he'd packed a small bag with food and clothing and left. He figured that he would take a year or two to see the world and then be back in plenty of time to marry and produce a little heir or two. The thought, as always, made him wince.  
  
Unfortunately there were a few flaws in his plan. How would he be able to leave the castle in the first place with so many guards around? How would he know where all the action was? Vegeta never thought about these problems for very long, however, and assumed that the answers would come to him as needed. That was how life had worked for him so far.  
  
Getting past the guards proved to not be that difficult of a task, which spoke ill of his father since they weren't as vigilant as they were supposed to be. The kingdom had been at peace with its neighbors for centuries and he supposed that one became quite lax when not expecting any problems. It wasn't an excuse for their less-than-stellar performance, but it was an explanation nonetheless.  
  
He was on the road by early morning and had made it to the nearest city by mid-day. Unlike other royal castles and palaces, there was no city surrounding his father's. Instead there was a vast forest whose protection was greater than an army of thousands. It was thick and confusing; an enemy army would find themselves hard-pressed to discover a way out of it. There was an ancient elven enchantment woven into the very trees that confused all who entered with ill intentions. Since there had been no powerful sorcerers born in the land since the days of the elven prince Ilan, all knew that it was nigh on impossible to launch an attack on the Saiya-jin royal family and so none ever tried.  
  
Vegeta couldn't help but to be a little sad about that. It made for a lot of incredibly boring days.  
  
Once in Hillys, he quickly found the nearest tavern that seemed to cater to a rougher crowd. There were few places better to learn about what things there were to be discovered save for the gaming or pleasure houses. He figured that he could visit a few of the former if this didn't pan out, but would stay away from the latter since he wanted no one to know his true identity.  
  
On a small side street off the main drag there was a tiny tavern known as the Horse's Head. Why, he didn't know, but he also didn't care enough to ask the proprietor about it. The lighting was more suitable to a cave than any sort of business -- the darkness lessened only by small oil lanterns hanging on the walls -- and thick, nearly impenetrable shadows gathered in the corners. There were several rough wooden tables scattered about, most of which containing warriors who looked like they hadn't bathed for months, if not years. Some of them even sported blood on their faces from a previous battle that had dried to a dark, nasty brown. Vegeta curled his lip in disgust and made his way to the bar.  
  
"What do you want?" the bored human bartender asked. He was nearly as wide as he was tall, his stringy gray-streaked brown hair thinning on top. Listlessly, he swiped at the bar with a rag that was more gray than white, spreading the dirt atop the bar rather than removing it. Vegeta honestly felt that he would contract some sort of illness in this place, but decided to buy a drink anyway.  
  
"Ale. Your best." He figured that it would be at least halfway drinkable.  
  
The man's eyes flickered over his finely-woven cloak and the intricate silver tooling on the scabbard that sheathed his sword. "Ye look like you've got the gold," the man grunted. "I'll have to tap a new cask." Apparently the people who could afford "the best" rarely ventured inside the Horse's Head Tavern. And for good reason.  
  
As he waited, a knife fight broke out behind him between a tall, gangly young man who looked scarcely old enough to even set food in the place and a man old enough to be his father. After a second glance, Vegeta came to the conclusion that they probably  _were_  father and son as they bore a strong resemblance to one-another. The son stabbed with little grace at the older man, missing by quite a distance. Then the father took a turn and stuck the knife in the boy's neck, leaving him gaping at him with incredulity as his hands came up to the wound. Slowly, he sank down to his knees and then sideways onto the floor, blood slicking his pale skin like water. There was a sudden stampede, then, as the other men did their best to get out of the tavern as fast as they could. The last thing any of them wanted was to be mixed up in a murder. Vegeta followed their cue, but not without one final look at the dying boy, his father standing over him with hatred in his eyes.  
  


***

  
Fortunately the second tavern he visited proved to be of more worth. It was larger and cleaner. He no longer felt afraid that prolonged exposure with the tavern's patrons would be hazardous to his health.  
  
He ordered a drink and took a table in the thick of things. There were several lively conversations going on around him, but no one spoke of anything he wanted to hear.  
  
The large party closest to the door vacated their table and left a mess of mugs and bowls upon the worn wooden surface. A young man who looked barely out of childhood exited the kitchen with a tray and began to clear the table. Vegeta's dark eyes watched him with curiosity, his face betraying none of his interest as his father had taught him. He was taller than he was (most people were) with thick black hair that was arrayed over his head in a typical Saiya-jin fashion that paid no mind to rhyme or reason. His dark eyes remained focused completely on his task, never rising for a moment to scan the tavern. When he turned around to head back to the kitchen, Vegeta discovered why. There was a small tattoo on the back of his neck, three circles overlapping in the center. It was a sign that the boy was a slave, probably the spoils of some fierce war. For him to show the slightest bit of interest in the comings and goings of the tavern's patrons would have spelled disaster for him.  
  
He saw him a few more times that night, his eyes always downcast and his movements always methodical. The last time he was only a table away from where he sat, close enough for the prince to see the play of muscles beneath the skin of his arms as he worked. When he turned to head back to the kitchen on that occasion, he caught Vegeta's eyes. The boy froze like a deer that had been stumbled upon by careless youths and time seemed to slow to a crawl. Vegeta did his best to memorize every feature of his face in the short amount of time he had to do it in.  
  
"Excuse me, sir," he said very quietly with a lightly accented voice that was pleasant to the ears. He hurried to complete his job. As he was crossing the open space between the bar and the next nearest table, a boisterous patron bumped him and the tray went flying out of his hands. In an instant, the red-faced Saiya-jin man tending the bar swooped down upon him and began to hiss something in a low, frightening voice. The boy's eyes widened and he began to rapidly clean up the mess. The tavern-keeper grabbed his upper arm the moment he stood up and dragged him into the kitchen.  
  
Knowing that he was a slave, the boy's punishment for his mistake (even though it had not been his fault) would be severe. To be so clumsy would reflect badly upon the tavern-keeper. People would say that he did not know how to train his servants. Leaving his only half-finished mug of ale on the table, Vegeta quickly exited the tavern and circled around the back to where he thought the kitchen would be. Hearing the sound of a deep voice shouting, he quietly made his way over to the edge of the building and crouched beside it.  
  
"You pathetic piece of trash! I ought to send you back to Fendan and get my money back!"  
  
The boy's voice was high with terror. "No, please, I beg of you!"  
  
There was a short silence. "You have one more time to mess up. One more! Then it's back to the stable for you. Now turn around and take your punishment like a man."  
  
By the sound of the boy's crying, he knew that punishment wasn't something that anyone would submit to quietly. Vegeta carefully moved so that he could see into the small yard behind the tavern. The boy was standing shirtless, his hands braced on a rickety wooden fence. From where he crouched he could see his back and the ghastly shape that it was in. Lash marks old and new crisscrossed his flesh so that scarcely any of it remained unmarked. Vegeta's fist clenched with barely restrained anger that someone would harm another living being that way. It was one thing to inflict injury on the field of battle, but entirely another to dole out pain to one who hardly deserved it.  
  
Before he could even consider the consequences, Vegeta was over the fence. He stood between the boy, who had turned his head to see what was going on, and the back door. Behind him came a small gasp of surprise, then frantic, almost incomprehensible, pleading for him to leave before Grott came back, but the prince ignored him and remained exactly where he was.  
  
The door opened and Grott returned, a bull whip in his hand. "Who the hell are you?" he asked, attempting to the hide the whip behind his back. The hooded cloak Vegeta wore successfully hid his features in shadow.  
  
"What right do you have to beat him? He's barely older than a child."  
  
"As his master, I have all the right in the world. Go see the king if you want to dispute it."  
  
The sad thing was, Vegeta knew that he did, indeed, have the right. It was an old law, but it had not been repealed. Fortunately few people still remembered that slavery was still legal in the kingdom of Saiya, but there were always a few who loved to uphold traditions.  
  
"And while I do so, you'll add more scars to his back." The words were on the tip os his tongue to say that he could do what he wanted since he was the prince, but he held them back. "How much do you want for him?"  
  
Grott gaped and the boy stared with wide eyes.  
  
"How much? He's hardly worth a thing."  
  
"Then you should be grateful to be rid of him."  
  
He made a show of considering Vegeta's offer. "Twenty gold," he said suddenly, fully expecting the younger man to laugh in his face. Much to his astonishment, Vegeta pulled out a small leather purse and began to count out twenty gold damars. It was a small fortune to a commoner, but merely a trifle to the prince. Grott held one up to the light, apparently checking for forgery, noting with some relief the visage of King Vegeta the Tenth on one side and the royal seal -- an anchor crossed by a sword -- on the other. "Go get yer things, boy, or they'll be out with the other garbage come morning."  
  
"Y-yes sir." He picked up his discarded shirt and quickly darted inside the tavern without a moment's hesitation as if someone had already gotten rid of them when he wasn't looking.  
  
Grott and Vegeta regarded each other silently. "Why do you want 'im? He isn't strong enough for anything beyond very basic labor."  
  
"My reasons are my own."  
  
A knowing gleam appeared in Grott's muddy brown eyes. "He's right pretty, though. I saw you had yer eye on him as he worked. I would expect that he would be as good a pleasure slave as any."  
  
Vegeta's expression hardened. "Did you use him this way?"  
  
"Me?" the look on his face was one of disgust. "No sir. I don't stick my dick in little boys. Now little girls are an entirely different matter, you understand."  
  
The imagery was enough to make him nauseous. "Get out of my sight before I change my mind and kill you anyway." Grott, thinking that he'd made a joke, started to laugh, but one look from the prince caused him to break off abruptly. The disgusting man returned to his tavern without another word, passing the boy on his way out. Very suddenly he and Vegeta were left all alone and the prince had no idea what to do with him.  
  
"You can do whatever you want, boy," he said casually. "I won't force you to serve me."  
  
He turned around to face him, his long onyx tail wrapped tightly around his leg in unease. Vegeta was relieved to see that his thin, yet muscular, chest was unmarked. He found himself following with his eyes the narrow trail of dark hair that began just below his navel to end somewhere beyond the waistband of his simple brown pants. The sight abruptly vanished as the boy pulled on his shirt. For a brief moment the boy looked as if he would say something, but had changed his mind.  
  
"Well, go on."  
  
"Why did you help me?" He was honestly curious. No one had bothered to help him before and he'd thought for a long time that all the people who  _would_  help were dead, crushed by the beasts that had come from the east. He forced himself to stop this line of thinking before he began to mourn once more.  
  
"You only dropped a platter, and that was after someone made you lose your balance. That ass acted as if you'd poisoned his only son." Vegeta's eyes grew shadowed as he remembered the sight of the boy's back. "You shouldn't have to be punished that way anymore."  
  
Figuring that the boy would never go with him, he headed for the gate he'd bypassed earlier in favor of making a dramatic entrance. His hand was on the latch when the boy spoke again. "I can't walk around without a master."  
  
"What?" the prince said.  
  
"My tattoo... Everyone knows what it means. I'll be called a runaway if I walk around freely."  
  
To be forever labeled as subhuman... It had to be a fate worse than death.  
  
"If I say that you can come with me would you do it?"  
  
"You're my master now."  
  
"That's not an answer," he said even as he knew that it was the only answer the boy could give. The moment that money exchanged hands, Vegeta had destroyed any chance of having an ordinary relationship with him. They would forever have that transaction hanging over their heads. Sighing, the prince wondered if he had done the right thing. "What's your name?"  
  
"They call me 'boy'."  
  
"I don't care what those who considered themselves your master called you. What did your parents name you at your birth?"  
  
To give one's true name was a sign of great trust. Vegeta then realized that he had not given his own and was telling the boy whether he wanted to or not that he desired control over him. "I am Vegeta. You are?" He whispered something, his face turned to the ground. "You're going to have to speak up in order for me to hear you."  
  
"Kakarotto," he said shyly. "My name is Kakarotto."  
  
"Alright then, Kakarotto, we will be on our way. I don't want to dally any longer near this place. It stinks of jackass." Vegeta started off, fully expecting his new companion to follow. When he glanced off to the side and didn't see him, he stopped mid-step. A larger body bumped into him, not expecting the sudden stop. "What are you doing?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Master," Kakarotto quickly apologized. "I wasn't watching where I was going."  
  
Vegeta turned around to face him. "When we're together you are to walk beside me as my equal and not like a stray dog seeking a kind hand to feed him."  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
"And you're to call me Vegeta," he commanded, even though he got a secret thrill each time the boy called him by that title.  
  
"Yes, Master, er Vegeta." The prince smiled very slightly at his mistake and the boy soon followed.  
  
"Good. Tell me, Kakarotto," he began as they started walking again, "do you know of any good adventures?"  
  
"Stories?"  
  
"No,  _real_  adventures. The kind that a man like myself can get himself into."  
  
"No, Vegeta, I don't. If I may make a suggestion?"  
  
"Suggest away."  
  
"You should head over to Fisher's Cove. The sailors there often tell tales of things that most people can only imagine." It went without saying that he thought himself a part of the "most people" category.  
  
Vegeta nodded, his mind made up. "Then we'll go. Do you need any supplies for the trip? Clothing and such?" His sharp eyes looked him over, noting that he could do with a new pair of clothes and a pair of shoes that didn't look as if pieces were falling off with every step. "Nevermind. You probably wouldn't have told me anyway." The embarrassed blush on Kakarotto's face confirmed his assumption. "I'll buy you new things whether you want them or not. When people travel in my company I would rather they not look like beggars."  
  
"I'm sorry!" he said immediately.  
  
"It's not your fault. Stop apologizing for everything." He couldn't help directing an exasperated look at Kakarotto who, once he'd seen it, opened his mouth to apologize again. The prince sighed and shook his head, knowing that it would take more than a gentle admonishment to cure the boy of his tendency to take the blame for everything. One important question sat at the forefront of his mind. Would he be able to endure long enough to get anywhere with him?  
  
Only time would tell.


	2. Chapter 2

Traveling with Kakarotto was interesting, to say the least. He was obviously very fascinated by the world around him, but his training dictated that he not say anything about it. So every time he gasped with delight or made a casual remark about something he had seen or heard, he would apologize profusely for doing so.  
  
"Kakarotto, you're entitled to an opinion, you know." Vegeta said after the third day he caught the boy stifling himself.  
  
"I... know." He said this as if he had just come to that realization. "But usually masters don't care to hear a slave speak. We are little more than animals who walk on two legs, after all."  
  
"No!" The boy jumped and stared at him with wide eyes. The prince softened his tone. "Don't say that about yourself again. You are still a member of the Saiya-jin race and Saiya-jin are never animals. I want you to repeat this to yourself every morning until you start to believe it." Kakarotto looked as if he wanted to say something unflattering about his mental stability, but held his tongue as usual. He simply nodded and returned to his lunch of jerky, cheese, and bread.  
  
Their resting place was beside a small river that flowed along a well-traveled road to Fisher's Cove. Because the city was on the coast, the road ended with it, but there were a few smaller settlements scattered between. The most notable of them was Fira, a town renown for its spiced wine.  
  
"Are you ready to move on?" the prince asked. He'd quickly learned that Kakarotto never expressed any kind of want or need, that he would look to his master for cues. It made him think about what else the boy had submitted to and, being a slave, it would have been a lot. He loathed to think about the boy's time in slavery.  
  
"Only if you are, sir." He still couldn't bring himself to call the newest man to purchase him by his first name.  
  
"What have I told you about having your own opinion?"  
  
"That I am allowed to have one."  
  
"Then do you want to stay or do you want to go?"  
  
Kakarotto examined his surroundings once more. The tree they sat beneath provided more-than-adequate shade from the glaring sun he knew to be overhead. The stream beside them provided clean water and its music was pleasant to the ear. Beside him sat a man who had supposedly bought his freedom, a man who said that they were equals. His stomach was full for the first time in years and he didn't fear that his life would end if he took a breath at the wrong moment. Kakarotto couldn't ask for anything better.  
  
"I would very much like to stay, sir. If only for a little while longer."  
  
Vegeta caught his eyes and just barely stopped himself from smiling. "Then we will stay."  
  
Several times throughout the course of the afternoon Vegeta had felt restless. He wasn't used to being idle. Even in the castle he'd trained and exercised daily. Every time he felt as if he could take no more he looked over at Kakarotto and took note of the soft smile on his face. For a slave, peaceful moments such as these were probably few and far between.  
  
When the afternoon started to drift off towards night, Vegeta finally called a halt to their rest. It wasn't wise to remain on the roads after dark, he explained, and Kakarotto wasn't able to defend himself.  
  
The boy made the expression the prince had come to associate with the effort it took to hold back his words. Vegeta waited patiently, hoping that he would speak without being prompted this time. "I-I can fight, sir."  
  
He stared at him. "Did I hear you correctly? You say that you can fight?"  
  
"Before I was captured, I had been trained in combat."  
  
"You hardly look old enough to be a warrior, no matter how tall you are." Even after a few days of traveling beside him, their dramatic height difference was still a sore point for the prince.  
  
Smiling at him, Kakarotto admitted, "I'm sixteen summers. The barbarians came from the east when I was twelve."  
  
Four years in bondage and he had survived. Maybe not entirely whole, but alive nonetheless.  
  
"Perhaps we can spar sometime," Vegeta said offhandedly. The wince his suggestion caused was proof enough that they still had a long road ahead of them.  
  


***

  
When darkness fell things always became uncomfortable between them. It seemed that Kakarotto expected his new master to come to him in the night, forcing him to submit beneath him as previous masters had done. Vegeta had guessed this on the very first night, but had yet to say anything about it. When the boy huddled on the opposite side of the fire once more, the prince could ignore it no longer.  
  
"Come here, Kakarotto."  
  
"Master..." the word was soft and it slipped out unbidden. Clearly he thought he had something to fear.  
  
When he was close enough, his blanket trailing from his shoulders like a strange woolen cape, the prince lightly clasped his hand and pulled him onto his lap. For a moment Kakarotto's body was like steel, rigid and unresponsive, but then he slowly relaxed when Vegeta did nothing but hold him.  
  
"I thought you needed this," he whispered, his breath tickling his ear. "How long has it been since anyone held you?"  
  
His voice broke on the first word. "T-too long, Master." He still did not know what the prince desired from him.  
  
"Listen to me well. I will never give you cause to be afraid of me. I have the power to protect you and I will use that power to its fullest extent."  
  
"You do? You will?"  
  
Vegeta gently grasped his chin and tilted the boy's face up so that they were able to make eye contact in the weak light of the nearby fire. "I am the crown prince, Kakarotto."  
  
He stared at him in wonder. Nothing he'd ever heard about the Saiya-jin royal family could have prepared him for the reality. The prince was a very good man. In the few days he'd been with him, Kakarotto had been treated better than he'd ever had. That included the days Before when he had still been free and his parents had still been filled with life. The sight of their lifeless, bloody corpses lying amongst hundreds of others on the vast plain where his people had gone to meet the attack would forever haunt him. And, to make matters worse, it had happened because of him. If they had just given him up, none of them would be dead.  
  
His body shook as a sob tore at his chest. Alarmed, Vegeta peered at him through the gloom in an attempt to discern what was wrong. "Am I hurting you somehow?"  
  
The boy shook his head then twisted around so that he could bury his face in Vegeta's hair. Greatly surprised by this, he could only hold him tighter until the tears ran their course. When he had seemingly cried himself out, the prince tried to pull from him what had caused the sudden surge of sadness, but Kakarotto's mouth remained shut tighter than a clam's shell and no amount of probing could open it. Eventually he gave up with a silent promise to try again another day.  
  
That night Kakarotto slept close enough to touch. Either he was taking his vow of protection as seriously as he'd meant it, or the crying had lowered his defenses enough that he felt too vulnerable to sleep on the other side of the fire alone. Whatever his reasons, Vegeta felt grateful that Kakarotto trusted him not to molest him in his sleep. When they got around to that (if ever), Vegeta wanted a fully awake and aware young man to be the recipient of any fondling he decided to place upon his person.  
  
The sun was already up when he awoke, which was highly unusual. For as long as he could remember, he had been up before dawn. Kakarotto wasn't lying beside him but his blanket was folded neatly in his place. The small pack he had carried with him from Hillys was gone as well. Vegeta jumped to his feet with haste, hoping that the signs were not true and the boy hadn't run off in the middle of the night. The small glade they'd decided to make camp in was well away from the road so that no passersby would be able to spot them without searching very diligently, but not so far that they could get lost trying to find their way back to the road.  
  
Vegeta loathed to call out just in case there were predators nearby, and it wasn't just the four-legged kind he was concerned about. Bandits were known to prey upon travelers and although he hadn't heard word of any being in this area, that didn't necessarily mean that they weren't around.  
  
"Kakarotto," he called softly, then snorted at himself at the absurdity of expecting the boy to hear him if he whispered. It was a futile effort and was only proving to frustrate him. Deciding to use his senses instead of wandering blindly through the forest, he stood very still and began to examine the world around him. There was a soft rustle in a nearby bush as a small animal passed through it. A bird -- a jay judging by the sound -- called to its mate high above his head. And something splashed only twenty feet away from him which could only mean that there was a body of water nearby that he hadn't known about.  
  
Something pulled him in that direction even as he cursed himself for not scouting the area more thoroughly. A good adventurer was supposed to know where major landmarks were. He knew that it wasn't very fair to be so hard on himself (considering the fact that he'd never been in a forest before half a week ago), but Vegeta had always held himself to impossibly high standards and wasn't going to stop now.  
  
As he drew close enough to the water, he began to hear sounds of humming. The voice was a pleasant baritone that he'd become very familiar with. In a stream that was barely the width of a wagon stood Kakarotto. He was completely naked, which was quite easy to discern since the water only came up to mid-thigh, and was bathing himself religiously. The idea of taking a bath didn't sound bad, actually, but he had never bathed out-of-doors in a stream and wasn't going to start now. He was a prince after all, and princes performed all hygienic duties behind closed doors, comfortably ensconced in hot water that smelled delightfully of herbs. Even though he would not be participating, there was nothing against observing from afar. As long as he wasn't discovered, that is.  
  
He watched as large hands maneuvered a small lump of crude soap over one very nice thigh and began to beg Kakarotto softly to turn around and face him. From this angle he could see his back and its map of scars and couldn't stop himself from wondering just how many were there. By the look of things there had to be close to hundred. His fists clenched and he made a mental note to find out just who had done that to him so that he could give them a taste of their own medicine.  
  
Then Kakarotto turned and all thoughts of retribution flew right out of his head.  
  
He was perfect. Completely and utterly perfect. That thin line of hair led the way to a cock so magnificent it seemed to have been taken from a statue. Of course it was soft, but he could see incredible potential there.  
  
Large, long-fingered hands encouraged the soap to lather. Kakarotto's free hand glided across his chest, leaving behind a thin film of soap that glistened in the sun. Was it only his imagination or did those fingers linger a bit longer than was necessary on the two hardened nubs of light brown flesh that adorned his smooth chest?  
  
The wandering hand dipped lower, across the flat plane of his abdomen, to tangle in the thick thatch of black pubic hair surrounding his member. Vegeta held his breath in anticipation, hoping against hope that he would do more than just wash himself, though the sight of slippery hands sliding over lightly bronzed flesh was quite nice to behold as well. When the hand did not move and began actively fondling, Vegeta thought he would pass out from the rush of blood from his brain to his nether regions.  
  
His exquisite cock lengthened and grew, becoming longer than his own in the end, but not thicker. Now he hoped for Kakarotto to stand at more of an angle to him so that he could have a better view of his self-service.  
  
His own hand stole below the waistband of his pants to mimic the actions of the boy -- no,  _young man_  -- as he raised himself to the heights of ecstasy. There were so many things he had yet to be taught and the prince would gladly give his right arm to be the one to teach him. The wild bucking of his hips signaled that he was close, so close and, upon seeing the look of rapture on his face, so was Vegeta. Kakarotto's mouth opened just as his cock began to erupt like a volcano, a low moan emerging from deep within that effectively shoved Vegeta over the precipice. The prince bit his lip 'til he drew blood to prevent himself from adding his own cries of passion to the still morning air.  
  
And the last thing he thought of before sneaking away as quietly as he'd come was that allowing Kakarotto's offering to be carried off by the mindless current had been such a waste.  
  


***

  
Kakarotto breathed heavily after his climax, allowing himself to calm down naturally. There was no mess to take care of so he instead kneeled in the water to wash away the soap. He hoped that the prince had enjoyed his performance and, judging by the look on his face, he most certainly had.  
  
His warrior senses, still sharp even after so many years of not using them, had alerted him to the presence of another person the moment Vegeta had reached the bank. Majority of his body had been masked behind the shrubbery he'd kneeled behind, but glimpses of pale skin and the black material of his tunic had shown behind the green of the leaves. It had been a spontaneous decision to exhibit himself, but they'd both gotten pleasure out of it so no harm had been done. Vegeta had also further proved himself to the teen by not taking advantage of his nude state and forcing him to become a receptacle for his lust.  
  
Kakarotto returned to shore and dressed in a fresh set of clothes, wrapping the soap in a linen cloth to keep it clean. As he pulled on his new boots, he wondered if he should take the initiative and let Vegeta know that he liked him as well. He wouldn't be able to just come out and say it, but there had to be dozens, if not hundreds of other little ways that didn't require verbal communication.  
  
When he returned to camp, the prince had packed everything up and had set out a small breakfast of berries and nuts they had collected a few days ago. It was the last of it, actually, and more food would have to be purchased in the next town. As they ate, Kakarotto noticed that the prince glanced at him several times, an inscrutable expression on his face. It made him nervous not to know what he was thinking and it showed as he gathered his bag.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"N-nothing," he stuttered, not looking at him.  
  
"Your behavior says otherwise."  
  
Knowing that he would not be able to simply keep his mouth closed this time, he tried to explain. "Have I somehow displeased you? I find it comforting when I can see your mood on your face or in your eyes. When you're blank like this, I become unsure."  
  
Vegeta moved forward so that they were only a foot apart. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "It's not something that I do consciously, but I will try to change." He allowed some of the desire he felt every moment he was in the teen's presence bleed into his eyes. "What do you see now?"  
  
He swallowed reflexively. "The reflection of my heart." And then he was closing the gap between them.  
  
Their first kiss was gentle, as was the second, but the feel of Vegeta's hands on his back clutching the material of his shirt stoked the fire the kiss had ignited within his body. He dropped his bag to the ground and buried his own hands in Vegeta's soft hair, sucking on his lips as if he wanted to devour his soul.  
  
The prince's tongue made an entrance, then, and they began to duel in the warm cavern that was Vegeta's mouth. His hands slid down from his back to clutch at his ass, pulling their bodies more tightly together so that each of them could feel the evidence of the other's arousal. Kakarotto broke off the kiss to moan aloud and Vegeta was able to come back to himself.  
  
"We can't do this now," he said, his voice unsteady. Kakarotto blinked glazed eyes at him. "It's not safe out here in the open," he further explained. "It'll have to wait until we can find an inn with an unoccupied room."  
  
Taking a large step back, the teen struggled to regain control of himself. Of course Vegeta was right. In broad daylight they would be easily seen by anyone searching hard enough. If they became too caught up in their passion, they would be dead before they knew it.  
  
He couldn't help cupping his groin and adjusting himself in plain view of the prince, making promises for when they could take the time to enjoy themselves. "Whatever you say, Master." The resultant smirk from his purposeful use of the title threatened to undo him entirely.


	3. Chapter 3

Tension had settled between them since the morning they shared their first kiss and it made the prince irritable and difficult to talk to. It was extremely hard not to throw caution to the wind as they walked down the road during the day, or pull Kakarotto into his lap as they sat around the campfire at night. And the teen wasn't helping matters by calling him Master and making suggestions with just about everything he did. Watching those slim fingers disappear one-by-one into his mouth to clean off any lingering bits of food from the dinner they'd just consumed was almost too much. He would usually excuse himself then and go find a large tree to masturbate behind. He knew that Kakarotto knew exactly what he was doing, but didn't care in the slightest.  
  
A few days later they were in Lios, a small farming community less than a week from Fisher's Cove. It was... quaint. The buildings were all plain wooden affairs that were worn from the weather, but they were still sturdy. The rosy-cheeked humans in their oft-patched clothing resembled their buildings as they were just as strong and just as enduring.  
  
Vegeta asked the first person he saw for directions to the inn. The older woman had looked at him for a moment as if he was speaking a language foreign to her and then directed him to one of the larger homes. Apparently not enough travelers came to visit for them to have an inn.  
  
The middle-aged woman there offered to put them up for the night and give them supper and breakfast for a single silver. Vegeta thought that she was asking for too little, but far be it for him to correct her.  
  
She lived in the house with only her two unmarried adult daughters, her husband having died in a farming accident out in the south fields. All of this was far more information than Vegeta needed, but the woman had opened her home to him and he did not want her to retract her invitation.  
  
As she talked, Kakarotto wandered around the sitting room, his eyes roaming casually over the keepsakes. There were two brass plates on the mantle with names on them and birth dates, Emalyn and Krissandra were, most likely, her daughters. Two hand-painted china cats sat side-by-side on a bookshelf with small numbers painted onto their sides. All of this added to the impression that the Lady of the House cared deeply for commemoration yet she had taste enough not to overburden a room with her memories.  
  
"Kakarotto," Vegeta said softly. He had quickly realized from the way Lady Fiyon's eyes darted to the side with every step the teen took that she was nervous about him examining her precious things so carefully. The prince knew that it was only because he was naturally curious, but the Lady didn't know that.  
  
In an instant, the teen was at his side. "Yes sir?"  
  
"Please remain beside me."  
  
"Whatever you say, sir."  
  
Fiyon was watching them with undisguised interest. "My servant," he lied easily. Well, he would have been had he honestly believed in the system of slavery.  
  
Very soon it was time for dinner. Lady Fiyone had been simmering a pot of stew in the kitchen while she chatted with her guest, never once bothering to say a word to Kakarotto once she'd been told that he was a servant. Her daughters returned home late into the evening, both of them being laborers at the weaver's, and were more than a little hungry. They entered the house, laughing about something, and abruptly fell silent when they saw the prince.  
  
"Hello. Are you to be staying with us?" A petite girl who was more than slightly overweight asked this. She looked to be the younger of the two.  
  
"Yes, but only for the night." Vegeta rose and kissed the girls' hands with all of the princely manners his dearly-departed mother had drilled into him as a child. "I am Vegeta. Charmed to make your acquaintances."  
  
The younger sister curtsied awkwardly. "I am Krissandra."  
  
"And I am Emalyn." She stepped forward and the light from the hanging lantern caught her face. It was very pretty. She wore her dark brown hair pinned up and her lips were painted a delicate pink. Her curtsy was the epitome of grace. "A pleasure."  
  
Kakarotto bristled. How dare she look at his master that way!  
  
Lady Fiyone stuck her head into the room. "Dinner will be served in just a moment. Perhaps you would like to freshen up?"  
  
"Of course, Mother," Emalyn said. "I will show our guests to their room and draw a basin of water." If Krissandra was upset that her sister was stealing the show, she made no sign of it.  
  
Vegeta knew exactly what the young woman was doing and could honestly care less. His head had never turned at the sight of an alluring female and he doubted it ever would. He had never really longed for someone of the male persuasion, either, before he had seen Kakarotto in the Three Donkey Tavern. Now it was the teen who made his blood boil and his cock rise in his pants. It was him that he longed for.  
  
Emalyn opened the door to a small, but neat room at the back of the house. "This is where you will be staying for the night," she said after she'd poured the water from a covered jar that sat on the small table beside it. "There is clean linen in the drawer beneath the basin." When neither of the young man spoke, she continued. "I will leave you both to your ablutions."  
  
She was nearly gone when Vegeta thanked her for her assistance. She flashed a gentle smile at him before quietly closing the door behind her.  
  
Going over to the water, the prince opened the drawer and removed a drying cloth. Kakarotto dropped their bags beside the bed before walking over and taking it, waiting patiently for the prince to wash his hands. He didn't say a word, nor did he look at him, for the duration. "You don't have anything to worry about," Vegeta said.  
  
The teen blinked. "I'm not worried."  
  
"Don't lie to me; I don't like it. Especially when it's easy for me to see the truth. You don't like the fact that Emalyn wants to catch herself a husband before we leave. As if I would see her and drop to my knees in worship!"  
  
He couldn't help but giggle. "But she is quite pretty, and your parents surely want you to marry and have children?"  
  
"Yes, both of those things are true, but they mean nothing in light of one realization I have made."  
  
The look on Kakarotto's face was playful. "That realization is...?"  
  
"I want you." Vegeta's eyes were serious as was his voice. "And only you."  
  
And Kakarotto knew his heart would never be his own again.  
  


***

  
When the five of them sat down to dinner it was a quiet affair. Lady Fiyone the seat at the head of the table once she'd served everyone. On one side sat Vegeta and Kakarotto, while on the other was Emalyn and Krissandra. The prince had thought the youngest girl had gracefully withdrawn from the competition, but she was still making eyes at him.  
  
Dinner was... passable. The Lady was a fair cook, but the daughters were becoming more than a little irritating. And the mother as well. Once she'd noticed that her two "precious ones" were interested in Vegeta she began to drop little hints here and there about Krissandra's wonderful cooking or Emalyn's professional needlepoint skills. He spent most of the time smiling with false delight. Kakarotto spend most of the time glaring into his bowl.  
  
After dinner there was an hour or so of socializing before bed. Emalyn pulled out a small harp and began to regale her mother's guests with song after song. She played like someone who thought themselves far better than they actually were. Neither young man could wait to return to their room. There was unfinished business between them to take care of.  
  
Finally Lady Fiyone began to yawn and decided to retire to bed. Her daughters soon followed, each of them trying to communicate their desire to have Vegeta join them in their room. The problem was that they shared one since Krissandra's room had been converted to a guest chamber after their father had died. The thought of begin with one sister while the other one listened (in addition to being with one of the sisters in the first place) made him shudder.  
  
The bed covers had been turned down and a fresh jug of water for drinking, along with two glasses, sat on the bedside table.  
  
They undressed silently down to their underwear then each took a seat on the edge of the bed. Kakarotto, though he wanted Vegeta like few things in his life, he was also afraid. While not a stranger to the act of sex, he was a stranger to act of voluntary submission. None of his previous masters had cared about prepping him so that he would experience no pain, or even making sure that he received any pleasure from the experience. It had been all about them.  
  
His body also bore the years of hardship he'd endured in the form of scars. His back had been a favorite of Lord Elvin, his second master, and he had delighted in marking him regularly. When his third master, the man before the tavern-keeper Grott, had discovered that there were no clear places on his back for him to deface, he had taken to raping him on every occasion that had presented himself, scarring him on the inside. No one would consider him beautiful. They would see only a disobedient slave who had deserved every lashing he had gotten.  
  
"Kakarotto," the prince said softly, sensing his fear if not seeing it on his face. "Come here." He did so without a word. When he was close enough, Vegeta reached up a hand and caressed his chest. Unfortunately he couldn't reach higher than his shoulders without standing on tip-toe. "Please sit down. I want to comfort you without having to overextend myself." He smiled when he said this and the teen smiled back.  
  
Kakarotto sat beside him and Vegeta wrapped his arms around his waist. "I may have purchased you, but you are not my slave. Obviously I hadn't been thinking very clearly when I did that since there is now a transaction standing between us, but it's too late now. Will you ever see me as just Vegeta, the man who desires you?"  
  
"Someday, yes. The training is a hard thing to put aside."  
  
"I can wait." He kissed him on the lips and smiled against them. "You are beautiful."  
  
"I'm a slave whose back is covered in scars." And whose soul is tattered beyond repair.  
  
"I don't care about that. You'll always be beautiful to me." Vegeta pressed his lips into Kakarotto's firmly, seeking more contact than the earlier brief kiss had provided. "Let me make love to you."  
  
"Okay," Kakarotto breathed.  
  
He laid him down on the soft feather bed and draped himself over him like a living blanket. The teen's eyes were clenched shut and his fists were buried in the duvet even though they had done nothing yet but kiss. Tiny mewling sounds emerged from the back of his throat. "Eager, are we?"  
  
"Oh, yes," he gasped. Vegeta felt something solid and warm pressing into his thigh.  
  
"You'll have to keep quiet. It wouldn't do to have one of the ladies come to investigate any strange noises coming from here." He hoped to pull quite a few of them from Kakarotto before the night was over.  
  
All of the other times he'd had sex, it had been only for mutual release. There had been quite a few people hanging around the castle who were more than happy to share a bed with the prince. Male, female, they had all blended together. Most of them had been the sons and daughters of his father's aides or wealthy businessmen who the king had wanted to win over to his side. So he had been instructed to woo the besotted offspring and had no other choice but to do it.  
  
This time, however, he wanted nothing more than to bring the teen beneath him more pleasure than he'd ever experienced in his life so far.  
  
He kissed him and Kakarotto's hands unclenched from the duvet to clutch at his naked back. The young man thrust his hips up against the prince in time with every thrust of Vegeta's tongue in his mouth. Vegeta removed his mouth to draw in more air then traced a path with his tongue down the side of Kakarotto's neck and over his the two light brown buds on his chest, not moving on until each of them was hard and aching. He spent a little time at his navel, circling around the small indentation and causing Kakarotto to giggle between gasps.  
  
"Lift up," he murmured and Kakarotto complied immediately. Vegeta pulled his loose-fitting white shorts down his legs and tossed them aside. After taking a moment to simply gaze upon perfection, Vegteta leaned down and took the head of Kakarotto's cock into his mouth. The teen gasped, having never felt such a thing before. Vegeta's mouth was like velvet and the tiny ridges on the roof of it massaged him. What was not being worked on with his mouth was being squeezed by his hand. The other hand, as he would soon discover, was making its own journey.  
  
Hands made rough by years of hand-to-hand combat training gently cupped his testicles. Thick fingers rolled them around in their sac as a hot, wet mouth tried to forcefully suck his seed from within them. He cried out before he remembered that he wasn't supposed to, covering his mouth with his hands to muffle the sounds of pleasure he could not stop. As more and more of his cock was engulfed by Vegeta's mouth, the hand that had been fondling it moved to join its brother. But not for long. It bypassed the hand busy at his testicles, tickled his perineum, and searched for the small hole beneath it. Vegeta was persistent and knew he'd found the spot when Kakarotto suddenly stiffened and then exploded in his mouth. He was startled, no doubt about that, but he did his best to swallow down his offering.  
  
"I'm sorry," Kakarotto said miserably once he'd caught his breath. Vegeta had moved up his body to rest his head on his chest. "I'll try to last longer next time."  
  
"Don't worry about it. Giving you pleasure gives me pleasure." He kissed him then and Kakarotto could taste himself in his mouth. "Are you ready for more?"  
  
"Yes," he sighed happily. "Do whatever you like, Master."  
  
"I won't." This caused the teen's eyes to snap open. "This isn't about me, it's about you. I don't want to remind you of those bastards that hurt you."  
  
Kakarotto sat up and pulled the prince back to his lips. "You won't," he said when they parted. "You never will. You can fuck me if you want." He twitched in anticipation of it. All of his previous joinings with men had always been painful and he wondered what it would feel like if it wasn't.  
  
"We will not fuck," Vegeta whispered. The face below him looked devastated, but it was only for a moment. "We will make love."  
  
His face fairly glowed with pleasure. "Whatever you say, Master."


	4. Chapter 4

The prince had nothing to slick to prepare him with and thought he would have to wait until he could purchase something, but then an idea struck him. He had never done it before since none of his former lovers had been into sexual experimentation, but he had a feeling that Kakarotto wouldn't mind in the slightest. He kissed his way down the teen's slender body, spending some time at his nipples, his cock, and his testicles again before his chin rested on the bed.  
  
"Lift yourself up a little. Hook your hands behind your knees."  
  
"What are you going to do?" He didn't sound nervous, merely curious.  
  
Vegeta smirked to himself. "Something I think you'll really enjoy." And then this tongue was on Kakarotto's entrance and the boy squealed at the unexpected sensation. He worked determinedly on loosening him up and it worked very quickly. By the time he was able to work his tongue and two fingers inside, Kakarotto was nothing more than an incoherent wreak.  
  
"Have you gone off somewhere?" the prince asked teasingly. The teen's eyes were open but he wasn't looking at anything.  
  
"Don't stop. Please don't stop!" he said in a dazed tone of voice. Being licked  _down there_  had to be the best thing he had ever experienced in his short life.  
  
"I'm afraid that if I continue that you'll never return. It can wait until some other time." He spat into his palm and stroked himself. It was crude but he was sure that it would be enough.  
  
He positioned himself. "Bear down as if you're going to the bathroom. It'll open you up wider."  
  
His face contorted slightly. "This feels strange."  
  
"It may feel that way now, but it definitely won't feel that way in a minute." Holding himself steady he steadily pushed forward with his hips until the head of his cock had disappeared. He watched Kakarotto's face to see if he was alright and his expression was certainly interesting. "I'm not sure if you want me to continue, or if you want me to pull out."  
  
Long-fingered hands grabbed his hips. "Don't you dare pull out!" Then the teen blushed when he realized what he'd said and who he'd said it to. "That is, if  _you_  don't want to, Master," he quickly added.  
  
Vegeta thrust forward experimentally and his "slave" arched his back up to meet him. "I don't know, Kakarotto, you were being awfully disrespectful a moment ago."  
  
"My apologies, Master," he gasped. "I'll never do it again!"  
  
"See that you don't." He worked himself the rest of the way inside Kakarotto's body and did not move for a long moment, relishing the feel of his passage clenching around him. When Kakarotto began to push back against him again, he knew that he was ready for him to continue, so he began to move, slowly at first, then with increasing speed. With every forward thrust Kakarotto squeezed, creating more friction on Vegeta's rock-solid member. He also gave a little roll of his hips when the prince bottomed out.  
  
"Faster, master. Please!"  
  
Unfortunately Vegeta was going as fast as he reasonably could since he didn't want to hurt the teen, but Kakarotto began frantic, thrusting his own body and gripping Vegeta's hips with his hands in an attempt to make him speed up. The prince readjusted his position, pushing Kakarotto nearly up onto his shoulders and using gravity to aid him. He could only hold on as his request was honored by the prince.  
  
Kakarotto came again, his body not used to such pleasure, but Vegeta resisted the urge to join him. The sight of the teen, his face and body taut with unimaginable ecstasy, his mouth open in a soundless cry, was nearly too much to bear. For a few more minutes he continued at his relentless pace and, much to his astonishment, Kakarotto began to grow erect again. But Vegeta was becoming tired and his control was not infinite. He thrust one final time and emptied himself within his lover's body, collapsing on top of him in a way that wasn't the least bit comfortable. After a moment, he hugged Kakarotto to him and rolled over carefully, miraculously not sliding out in the process.  
  
For several long moments they both simply existed. Kakarotto's breathing had quieted, but he still lay limply against the prince. Vegeta thought that he was asleep at first, but then tiny movements against his thigh became noticeable and he remembered that the teen was still hard.  
  
"You should be exhausted," he murmured.  
  
"'m not. Still want you." His voice was thick with sleep.  
  
"And you can have me, but not right now. Tomorrow's another day."  
  
"'kay." Kakarotto buried his face into his neck and slipped off into slumber completely.  
  
Although Vegeta was tired, but mind wouldn't allow him to sleep just yet. He almost couldn't believe that he'd just made love to Kakarotto. It was something that he thought would never be possible even after he'd purchased him from the tavern-keeper in Hillys. Exchanging money for Kakarotto had never meant to him what it had meant to others. He didn't want a slave and it made him angry to know that other people did. Once he became king, he would put an end to slavery once and for all and he hoped that the current, and future, victims could hold out until then.  
  
Kakarotto was truly a special person. He had still retained his sweetness, though he he'd had little reason to, and was eager to please. Vegeta was even starting to think that he did things for him because he liked him instead of out of obligation. And he smiled. Constantly. That was enough to convince him that he'd done the right thing.  
  
He pulled the teen closer, twining their tails together, and kissed him atop his unruly head of hair. "I love you, Kakarotto," he whispered. And he was very surprised to realize that it was the absolute truth.  
  


***

  
He awoke to the sound of Kakarotto bathing. He did this often, sometimes almost desperately as if he'd been denied this simple pleasure in the past. Vegeta watched him with a lazy smile on his face. He would never grow tired of seeing those graceful hands caress himself.  
  
Kakarotto dried himself with a square of linen, his face still turned away from the bed. "How much longer will you lay there, Master?"  
  
A little surprised that he'd noticed his scrutiny, Vegeta said, "I'm rising right now. Have you left any water in the kettle?"  
  
"Of course." He paused to kiss him good morning before heading over to his bag. Vegeta watched him walk away, fondly remembering how it had felt to be deep inside such a fine ass.  
  
Kakarotto's seed had dried in flaky patches on his skin that, in all honesty, felt disgusting. He poured fresh hot water into the basin from the kettle that hung in the room's small fireplace and briskly began to wash. He could hear Kakarotto relieving himself in the chamber pot nearby. All in all, it made him feel very domestic. He could easily imagine dressing Kakarotto or taming his wild black hair just as easily as he could imagine having sex with him.  
  
"Master?" He blinked and looked over at his lover. "Is everything alright?"  
  
"Yes," he smiled, kissing him. "Everything's fine."  
  
"I'm glad." He leaned into him and sighed happily. "Lady Fiyone rose with the sun. She's probably finished with breakfast."  
  
"Good. I'm ready to move on. Hopefully their market will be open after we eat." Vegeta kissed him once more before heading over to their things and dressing for the day.  
  


***

  
Kakarotto exited the room before his master and knew immediately that something was wrong. The Lady was too quiet as were the two daughters and he knew that all three of them had risen just by listening to their movements before he'd gotten out of bed. As he and the prince moved down the narrow hallway, the sound of whispering became audible. Why would they be whispering unless they had something to hide?  
  
"Master," he said softly and seriously, "I think they know."  
  
"Know what?" he asked before he caught himself. Of course they knew. It wasn't as if either of them had been very quiet and the sound of the headboard colliding with the wall behind it had probably been a dead giveaway. "It doesn't matter," he said. "Having sex with other men isn't illegal. Not anymore, at least."  
  
The teen shook his head. "But it might cause you trouble. I'm sorry, Master."  
  
"Don't be. If given a chance to do things over, I'll choose to make love to you every time."  
  
They entered the small dining room where the three women sat around the table, their heads bent close together. Lady Fiyone's face was a mask of disgust while her daughters' reactions were less intense. Emalyn looked disappointed, but Krissandra actually looked interested.  
  
"Mother, they can't help who they are," Krissandra said in a frustrated voice as if she'd said this more than once. "In truth, I can't help but find it arousing."  
  
Emalyn looked shocked while her mother looked horrified. "Krissandra!" the older woman said, her eyes wide.  
  
"What? They're both really very handsome, don't you think?"  
  
Kakarotto blushed deeply while Vegeta shuddered. "Ladies," he said, attracting their attention, "good morning. I must extend my sincere apologies for last night. I fear my servant and I were a little... disruptive."  
  
"Oh, please don't worry about that." Krissandra couldn't take her eyes off him and expression was a little unnerving. "I enjoyed every moment of it."  
  
"We'll be leaving now. Thank you for your hospitality." Vegeta couldn't get out of there fast enough. He paid the Lady of the House and returned to the guest room to get their things. Kakarotto remained in the dining room, not quite able to look at anyone. When Vegeta returned he was out the door almost before he was.  
  
They were almost to the market when the teen spoke. "That was embarrassing."  
  
"And disturbing," the prince added. "Krissandra would very much like a threesome."  
  
"Please don't continue." Kakarotto looked miserable. "I'd rather not think about that."  
  
The prince wrapped and arm around his waist and pulled him close. "Then shall I take your mind off it, then?" he whispered. "I want you to service me tonight. We're still a few days from our destination, but I'm willing to risk discovery in the forest if I can feel your soft lips wrapped around my cock."  
  
Heat rose in his cheeks. "Your wish is my command, Master."  
  
"Have I ever told you how much I love it when you call me that? But only if you're doing it of your own free will. Otherwise it's just wrong." With that thought Vegeta's good mood evaporated. "You haven't been free in so long, Kakarotto. You were just a child when you were taken away from your homeland."  
  
"Vegeta, do you believe in Fate?"  
  
He was startled to hear his name spoken by his love without the slightest trace of uncertainty. "Not particularly, no."  
  
"I do. I believe that all of the bad things I've went through as a slave was leading up to the moment that you bought me from Grott. Every beating, every rape, every humiliation had a purpose."  
  
"I very much want to believe that," the prince whispered. "For your sake, and for mine." Kakarotto smiled and kissed him there on the street, uncaring of who saw them. As Lios was a human town, there were more than a few dirty looks, but no one said anything.  
  
Within an hour they were on the road again. Kakarotto walked with newfound confidence, his head held high, and Vegeta liked to see him that way. He knew that there was still darkness inside of his lover, but they had time to get rid of it all.  
  
Noon saw them beneath a tree just off the road enjoying a brief lunch of bread and cheese along with apples that Kakarotto had picked. It was the teen's favorite way to spend a meal. Their dessert was the enjoyment of each other's lips and a little light fondling.  
  
Suddenly Kakarotto stiffened. "There are five men around us: two on the left, one on the road, and two in the trees. The ones above us have crossbows." He didn't make any sign that he'd noticed their attackers, his lips still pressed against Vegeta's.  
  
"Damn thieves," the prince cursed softly.  
  
The bandits remained hidden in the trees, making no move to rob them. Kakarotto's mind worked furiously to try to find them a way out of this dire situation. "Do you trust me?"  
  
"With my life," he answered honestly.  
  
"Unfortunately this may very well come down to life or death. When you feel me move, roll away in the opposite direction. Don't do anything but keep your head down. I'll handle the rest."  
  
"Are you insane?" Vegeta's heart was pounding. The thought of Kakarotto's body lying cold and lifeless on the ground was in the forefront of his mind.  
  
"You trust me, remember? Now go." Kakarotto rolled right while Vegeta, after only a brief moment's hesitation, rolled left. Two crossbow bolts penetrated the ground where they last were.  
  
Vegeta did as instructed, his eyes clenched shut. He heard the sounds of combat, of men crying out in pain. Then he heard the distinctive sound of a crossbow discharging, its bolt finding its mark in living flesh, judging by the scream he heard. As quickly as the battle began, it was over, and since Vegeta wasn't being dragged from his hiding place, he assumed that Kakarotto had won. Somehow.  
  
He opened his eyes. The teen was rifling through through the clothing and pouches of the dead men, coldly and efficiently relieving them of all their valuables. Vegeta watched with wide eyes as the timid teenager he'd traveled with for days behaved like a seasoned warrior. It was obvious that he had done this before.  
  
"Kakarotto," he swallowed thickly. Training against his father's lazy guards had not prepared him for the reality of battle.  
  
"Hmm, master?" He removed another dagger from its sheath. It was a fine weapon and would probably fetch them a lot in Fisher's Cove.  
  
"You killed them." His voice sounded faint and his head was pounding in time with his pulse. "They're dead."  
  
"Uh huh. I had to or else  _we_  would be dead. I'll do anything to protect you, Master." He tossed another pouch filled with coins onto the assembled pile of loot. "Looks like they've robbed quite a few people."  
  
Vegeta sighed. He was right. There had been no other options. But it was so sad that Kakarotto had blood on his hands. He was still so young.  
  
Soon they had a sizeable collection of small objects to sell, one so large that they had to fashion a sack out of one man's shirt just to carry it all. Kakarotto smiled at the prince, seemingly unfazed by what he'd done. Vegeta, on the other hand, was a little unnerved. It had undoubtedly changed the way he viewed his love.  
  
They continued on their way to Fisher's Cove, silent for a long while. If Vegeta were to look at Kakarotto's face he would have seen a struggle there. The teen knew that he had done something completely out of character, and that Vegeta had been bothered by it, but he couldn't bring himself to feel regret. His master's life had been spared, as well as his own, and that meant far more to him than Vegeta's unease. He would endure an eternity of uncomfortable silence as long as it meant he could remain by his master's side.  
  
"Kakarotto, I'm sorry you had to do that, but I understand. Really." The afternoon was on the fast-track to evening, the sun slanting over their bodies and casting long shadows across the dirt road. "It doesn't change how I feel about you."  
  
"Really? Are you sure?" His face was hopeful and he was far too happy to stop and apologize for daring to question his master.  
  
"Yes. How can I feel anything other than love for you?"  
  
A wave of intense affection for his newest master nearly swept him away. There had never been a moment before this one that he'd believed in Fate so strongly. He could almost be grateful for the hardships he'd gone through since it had earned him such a wonderful reward. "I will tell you a story, Master. It's the only way I know of that's good enough."  
  
"Good enough?"  
  
"Yes, to thank you for being so good to me." Kakarotto smiled at him and it remained even after he began his tale. His past was simply that and knowing that it had had a purpose lessened the power it had over him. "My people were the keepers of the Key. It was what they'd guarded for centuries and continued to guard even though they didn't remember what it was for. It had become the primary reason for their existence and every child was raised to understand that as well as they understood themselves.  
  
"Four years ago the barbarians came. They sought the Key and knew exactly what its true purpose was. It opens some sort of gateway that they wanted to lead their own people into, a place that's supposed to be beautiful beyond anything in this world. My people would not allow them to have it. Our ancestors have instructed us in the writings that no one was to ever use the Key under any circumstances. They upheld this vow with honor and all of them perished that day. Men, women, and children alike. I am the sole survivor." He shook his head, tears stinging his eyes. "All their lives were wasted to protect me. For a place that poses no threat to anyone. It's paradise, master! How could paradise be bad?"  
  
The prince didn't answer his question. He couldn't quite get passed the fact that Kakarotto had implied that he, himself, was the Key. But how was that possible? "You're the Key?" he tried to ask, but it came out as more of a statement.  
  
  
"Yes. Well, I'm not  _the_  Key, but it is a part of me. It's been there since just after I was born. Every time the bearer of the Key is close to death, they remove it and place it within someone else who is compatible with it. The Elders figured that everyone would look for an object and not think to look for a person."  
  
"It was a good idea," he admitted. "I just don't like the fact that it makes you a target."  
  
"Oh, they don't know where I am. I escaped from the battle after killing the men who were after me. Unfortunately I was captured by slavers before I could get to the nearest city. Exhaustion had caught up to me and I fell asleep against my will." He linked arms with his master. "I trust you. You deserve to know the truth about me."  
  
He had indeed wanted to know more about his lover, but learning that there were people after him who would cheerfully end his life made him realize that there were some things he could definitely live without knowing about. "No one will hurt you as long as I have breath in my body," he swore.  
  
Kakarotto kissed him. "I know," he said with a smile.


	5. Chapter 5

Kakarotto located a small lake once they'd decided to stop for the night and they went swimming. It was deep enough that they could swim, but not deep enough that they had to tread water. At least,  _Kakarotto_  didn't have to tread water. Vegeta frowned at his lover when they were in the middle of the lake and he could still keep his feet. The water was up to his shoulders, however.  
  
"Hold on to me," the teen said after a while. So the prince wrapped his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist and felt a little like a baby animal riding on its mother's back. Kakarotto's soft cock nestled within his crack, pressing against a place that had never been explored before. With all of his previous lovers Vegeta had easily taken the dominant role. It scared him a little to realize that he wouldn't mind being submissive if it was Kakarotto he was submitting to.  
  
Large hands massaged his rear. "Master," he whispered. "You feel so good."  
  
"So do you."  
  
It was still daylight though the sun was quickly setting. The lake was surrounded by trees, but it was large enough that the water itself was fairly open. There could be archers in the trees, voyeurs on the shore, but Vegeta found that he just didn't care. His body yearned for Kakarotto and his sweet ministrations.  
  
It also yearned for something else, something he had never tried before, but it was still too soon to ask his young lover to play top to his bottom.  
  
"Kakarotto," he whispered, his mouth sucking at his neck. "It's been too long."  
  
"It was only yesterday, Master." His voice was teasing.  
  
"When it comes to you, it could be five minutes ago and I would still want you much like a man dying from thirst would want a drink of water." His lips returned to his neck, sucking with all of his strength, hoping to leave a mark. There was a slight movement beneath him as Kakarotto began to rise to the occasion even in the cold water of the lake. The teen, never losing his hold on his ass, carried him ashore and set him down on his feet. Then he kneeled before his master and began to worship his erect member.  
  
Vegeta clenched his hands in his soft hair, eyes closing to mere slits. He had never doubted Kakarotto's skill at fellatio, but he'd had no idea that he was so good. The prince's own skills paled in comparison since he had never orally stimulated a male partner before he'd purchased Kakarotto, but the teen had never had anyone give him pleasure before so he hadn't noticed in the slightest.  
  
"I'm close," Vegeta moaned. His legs trembled, threatening to spill him upon the ground, but Kakarotto's hands held up him and lent him strength. He could feel the imminent explosion growing ever nearer, could feel his testicles draw up close to his body, and then he felt Kakarotto stop. Not only did his sucking motions cease but he also removed his mouth completely. Vegeta opened his eyes to stare at him in disbelief.  
  
"Not yet," the teen said. "I want to feel you inside of me." He then positioned himself on his back in the thick grass. "Please."  
  
He could only stare for a long moment, wondering what he'd done to deserve such a beautiful lover. He thought it had to be something monumental, but nothing came to mind. Maybe he was just incredibly lucky.  
  
There was another position he wanted to try, but he didn't know if Kakarotto would be willing. "Can you turn over for me? Get on your hands-and-knees?" The look on the teen's face said that it was the last thing he wanted to do, but he did so anyway. The scars were shiny pink and in sharp contrast with the paleness of what little unblemished skin that peeked through.  
  
Kneeling behind him, he caressed the smooth flesh of his rear beneath his hands. There weren't any scars to speak of, most of the real damage was on his back. His hands traveled up slowly to touch the scars, feeling the roughness of the skin, wishing that such a thing had never happened. He took the time to kiss his back as if his soft touches could erase those years of pain, and felt Kakarotto trembling beneath him.  
  
"Are you all right?" he asked.  
  
"You-you're not disgusted by them?" His voice trembled as well. "They always said that others would be, that no one else would want me because I'm damaged goods."  
  
"I don't care what they said. It makes me angry to see your scars because someone dared to hurt you, but they don't change how I feel about you." He placed one final kiss to the small of his back, right above his tail, and then moved lower.  
  
His tongue bathed those two perfect cheeks, relishing in the soft moans that Kakarotto gave. He hardly hesitated before dipping his tongue between them, worshipping this secret flesh as often as he'd worshipped his lips. He knew how well Kakarotto washed himself. He had seen it with his own eyes.  
  
"Ma-Master," he whimpered, sinking down onto the ground when his elbows became too weak to hold him up. His tongue was penetrating him now, preparing him for entry by something far larger. After one final lick he felt Vegeta position himself. His body was so relaxed, so loose, that he knew he would feel little pain, if any at all. The sensation of Vegeta sliding into him and filling him up nearly made him cry it felt so good.  
  
"Are you ready?" the prince asked him after he'd waited a moment for his body to adjust.  
  
Kakarotto pushed himself up onto his hands again. "Uh huh."  
  
"Then I won't hold back." It was the only warning he received before his hips began to thrust. This time the prince was able to pick up speed right away and every forceful thrust nearly sent Kakarotto back to lie upon the ground. The teen was moaning continuously, sometimes sounding as if someone was trying to kill him, punctuating with a little grunt each time he moved back to meet Vegeta. You definitely couldn't say that he wasn't an active participant.  
  
Vegeta's hands clutched at Kakarotto's slender hips to give himself more leverage. The teen's tail thrashed against his stomach, even darting down to grip his cock each time he withdrew. Vegeta's own tail had wound itself around his leg, doing its best to cut off his circulation as if it had a mind of its own.  
  
"Master!" Kakarotto gasped. He wanted to be touched, but didn't dare remove one of his hands from the ground. He writhed desperately. "T-touch me!"  
  
He was confused, but only for a second. His right hand slipped beneath Kakarotto's body to grasp his twitching cock, squeezing it tightly within his fist. It was all the extra stimulation that the teen needed. In an instant he exploded, screaming so loudly that a large group of birds in the trees above took to flight, clouding the sky with their bodies. His body contracted almost painfully, bringing Vegeta over with ease.  
  
Afterward they lay on the grass in each other's arms both trying to get their breath back. "That was amazing," Kakarotto said sincerely.  
  
The prince chuckled and kissed his sweat-dampened forehead. "I try my best. We should go back into the lake. We're sweaty and dirt is probably adhering to our bodies with every passing second."  
  
"I think my bones melted," the teen sighed dreamily.  
  
Vegeta smiled and began to laugh. "You're so cute sometimes."  
  
"And I'm not cute all the time?"  
  
"No." Kakarotto adopted an offended expression. "You're absolutely irresistible." He was somehow able to get to his feet and he extended his hand to his lover once he had steadied himself. "Less than a week to go until we'll be able to make love in a real bed again."  
  
"And I can't wait."  
  


***

  
The remainder of their trip wasn't entirely pleasant, unfortunately. While they were each happy to be in the company of someone they loved, the day following their last little detour was filled with rain. And so had the day after. Both of them were miserable, their cloaks doing little to keep out the rain that would blow horizontally into their faces and tempers had been incredibly short. More often than not Vegeta found himself apologizing to Kakarotto for raising his voice or for making a cutting remark. When the skies finally cleared, it was all Kakarotto could do not to jump up and down with joy.  
  
"Go ahead," Vegeta had said after seeing the look of barely contained excitement on his face. "I'll even join you." So they had spent a few moments acting like children, something neither of them had gotten the chance to do very often.  
  
"I love you," Kakarotto had whispered softly, his hand caressing Vegeta's cheek.  
  
"I love you, too."  
  
Now they were coming upon the huge gates that marked the south entrance into Fisher's Cove. There was another way in on the east and, of course, a large harbor that accommodated ships from all over the world. The gate sat in a tall stone archway set into the equally-as-tall city wall and was watched every moment of every day by a small group of serious guards in heavy armor who constantly fingered the hilts of the swords at their waists. Kakarotto reached out and grabbed Vegeta's hand tightly, a little intimidated by them.  
  
"Don't leave me alone," he begged quietly as they stood in line with the other merchants and visitors to the city. "My mark will tell them that I'm less than nothing."  
  
"You aren't," Vegeta said firmly.  
  
"I know I'm not now, but, to them, I'll never be anything other than a slave. We have to be careful."  
  
"I won't let you out of my sight, I promise." Vegeta gave his hand a squeeze then let him go. Fisher's Cove was a mixed city with a roughly forty-five percent human population. The Saiya-jin could usually care less about someone's sexual orientation, but the humans were a completely different story. He didn't want to attract their hostility.  
  
Kakarotto remained clingy even after they cleared the gate. If he wasn't clutching at the prince's hand he was holding onto his tunic like a small child. He was truly terrified of the city guard, even more so than he was of the inevitable negative reactions his wandering hands would earn him. Eventually Vegeta gave in to his heart and wrapped his arm around the teen's waist. An old woman walking nearby glared disapprovingly at them, but his lover's body had finally stopped trembling.  
  
"We'll find an inn," he said. "One with a good reputation. I'm sure you'll appreciate a hot bath after all these days of walking."  
  
"I haven't had one since before the rainstorm."  
  
"So I can smell," he teased. Kakarotto was becoming better at not taking everything so seriously, though he was still obviously afraid of being rejected. This time the prince received a good reaction judging by the tiny smile that appeared on the teen's face.  
  
"We haven't made love underwater yet," he purred. Vegeta looked at him with lust-filled eyes, his pants becoming tighter around the crotch. Kakarotto could just be watching clouds pass by and he would turn him on.  
  
It was easy to find a nice place to spend a few days. Fisher's Cove catered to a lot of people both rich and poor so there were rooms available for every budget. While Vegeta had began his journey with a sizeable amount of money, and Kakarotto's corpse-robbery had only added to his funds, he didn't want to spend too much. Not having ever been outside the palace walls, he had no idea what to expect. It was best to be prepared.  
  
For six gold they were able to get two meals a day and unlimited access to the bathing room, which they made use of the very same day they'd checked in, right after dinner. Vegeta had found it hard to thrust underwater, but the feel of it swirling around his most intimate places had been amazing. They'd gone to sleep soon after they had both been satisfied, but it had not been from lack of trying to start something else on Kakarotto's part.  
  
The size of Fisher's Cove was staggering and there were no maps available to common citizens. Hanging around the inns that obviously catered to tourists were people male and female, young and old, Saiya-jin and human who claimed to be guides. Some of them were legit, while others were more likely to lead you into a bad neighborhood then rob you blind. Kakarotto, the prince had come to learn, had an eye for people. He could spot the fake guides for what they were and point out the ones who were just looking for a way to earn money. He pointed out several children who really should have been in school, a teenage girl, and a few boys in their twenties. All of them looked a little worse for wear.  
  
"All of them need the money pretty badly," he said, "but I don't think they'll try to rob us." He looked at the prince, letting him know that the final decision rested in his hands.  
  
Not wanting to deal with any children, he ignored them completely. He skipped over the teenage girl because she couldn't stop staring at him. That only left the young men around his own age, some of whom were quite handsome. He didn't think it was a good idea to let his cock choose for him, but he  _was_  leaning towards a slender Saiya-jin boy of average height. He had long shaggy black hair that spilled into his eyes and over his shoulders and was wearing a sleeveless gray shirt and tight black pants. He actually looked more like a prostitute than a guide.  
  
Kakarotto followed his master's gaze and inwardly winced. He had been afraid of who he would choose. "He's okay," he mumbled even while dislike blossomed across his face. That one would be competition for him, of that he was sure.  
  
"No, he's not." Vegeta slipped his hand behind Kakarotto and pinched him on the rear. The teen let out an undignified squeak. "That was for not speaking up after I've told you several times that it was okay."  
  
"It's not my place to do so, Master, since you will be the one to pay." Vegeta sighed in frustration, but didn't say anything else.  
  
They moved out from beneath the awning shading the entrance of the inn as the boys began to disperse. Vegeta, afraid he would lose his chance, quickly scanned them again and chose a boy that was plain in appearance so that Kakarotto wasn't upset. The boy he had been eyeing before frowned in disappointment before heading off.  
  
"What's your name?" he asked him. He was human as was evident by his reddish-brown hair and lack of a tail.  
  
"Alain, sir. Are you looking for a guide? This city can be confusing to newcomers."  
  
"Can you honestly do the job?"  
  
He was quick to say yes. "I only charge five silver a day. Most of the others charge a gold."  
  
"Then you're hired." Vegeta held out his hand. "I'm Vegeta. This is Kakarotto. We're looking for a place to hear the latest news from around the continent."  
  
"So you're adventurers then?"  
  
The prince nodded. "You could say that."  
  
"I know of a good place by the sea. A lot of warriors and sailors head there once they get back into town. You should hear some of the tales they tell."  
  
"Sounds perfect."  
  
"It is. There's only the matter of getting you through the increased security at the docks, but you shouldn't have any problems. Are you ready to leave now?"  
  
Vegeta and Kakarotto exchanged glances. "Increased security?" the prince asked.  
  
"There was an incident there a few days ago, nothing too big, and the governor gave the orders to restrict access. So far the only people to be kept out are thieves and cutthroats. Everyone else still has the same freedom of movement." He was impatient, if the look on his face was anything to go by. "So, are we still going? Or should I go find someone else to guide around town?"  
  
"No, I'll use your services. Finding something interesting to do was the entire reason I came here."  
  
Alain turned toward Kakarotto, who had remained silent for the entire conversation. "What about you? What brought you to Fisher's Cove?"  
  
"Vegeta did," he responded. "Where he goes, I go."  
  
"You're lovers, then. I thought he was your servant."  
  
Vegeta's voice lowered dangerously. "Is that a problem?"  
  
The guide was unafraid. "Who am I to say what's right or wrong? Besides, you've hired me. I'm not going to risk losing money over this."  
  
"Good to see that there are still humans willing to keep public and private lives separate. Lead on, Alain. If I learn what I want to know today, I'll throw in an extra gold."  
  
His eyes lit up with delight. "Good thing you picked me, then. I know all the ins-and-outs of life here in the Cove. You will not be disappointed."  
  
He took Kakarotto's hand and tugged him along after their guide. "This had better be worth it," he muttered quietly to himself. Kakarotto agreed wholeheartedly.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a special warning for this chapter: graphic violence. I don't think it's that detailed, but opinions may differ. Even if you don't think you can stomach it, I suggest you read anyway because there's plot development here that's essential to the storyline.

Later he would think back and wonder about the moment when everything had gone straight to Hell. The day had begun so mundanely, after all. They'd breakfasted at the inn, he and Kakarotto, and had hired a guide to lead them to the places where people went to share stories (no matter how fantastical they were). Vegeta had only been trying to fill the empty void inside of him where his life would have been had he been allowed one in the palace.  
  
Meeting Kakarotto and realizing that they had mutual romantic feelings for each other did much to fill it. He had always wanted someone he could stand to be around, someone who didn't have ulterior motives for being with him. The simpering, doe-eyed women of his father's court hardly fit into that category and, besides, they were women. When he imagined the person he would spend the rest of his life with, that person definitely didn't have a woman's curves.  
  
Kakarotto was a slave even though he was technically still a child, one whose body bore the evidence of the hardships he had endured for a little over four years. His previous masters before the prince had bought him had cared little for his comfort and so had raped him whenever they'd felt the urge or beat him bloody for some minor transgression. Even though he was doing much better than when they'd first met, Kakarotto still expected to be punished severely and still awoke screaming sometimes during the night after a particularly horrible nightmare.  
  
That morning after their meal, their guide Alain led them down to the docks where there were businesses that did a brisk business with sailors, sea merchants, and warriors just passing through. The buildings by the sea were faded from the weather and the salty air, but they looked sturdy and well-built as well.  
  
Closest to the road that led to the newest guard post were the taverns, inns, and shops. Closer to the eastern and western walls were the gaming and pleasure houses. While Vegeta didn't really mind visiting a gaming house for a round of cards and information, he drew the line at the brothels. Besides, he doubted that any of them catered to men who desired other men.  
  
The tavern the prince chose was called the Silver Serpent. It was a mid-level establishment that most of the undesirables would hardly be able to afford. He had no desire to witness another scene like the one back in Hillys nor did he want Kakarotto to witness one. Alain showed them to one of the better tables and then left to talk with the tavernkeep.  
  
"This isn't so bad," Kakarotto said, allowing his body to relax. Taverns were a common setting in his nightmares, though he had never told Vegeta about that. Grott's tavern had not been the only one he'd worked in, so-to-speak. His very first master had routinely taken him to a place that catered to an exclusive clientele where he and a few other boys were made to service the patrons. It had been his first time participating in anything remotely resembling sex, but it had certainly not been the last.  
  
Vegeta glanced at him, noticing how his hands gripped the table even though his face was placid. "Are you honestly alright?"  
  
"I will be."  
  
Alain returned with two mugs of port. "I know the tavernkeep personally so this isn't the stuff he serves everyone else. Trust me, you didn't want that."  
  
"Aren't you going to have some?" Vegeta asked before taking a ship. It was smooth and went down easy.  
  
"I've learned not to drink on the job," was all he said. He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his stomach. "Do you see that big hairy guy over there that's arm wrestling the guy with curly hair?"  
  
Kakarotto was sitting in the perfect position to watch them unobserved. He watched the larger guy slam his victim's arm down to the table so hard that it shook. "What about him?"  
  
"He comes from the hills to the east of the Cove and there's rumors that they're hiding enough gold there to outfit the governor's entire army five times over."  
  
"Gold," Vegeta said dully. "I have enough of that already. Isn't there anything else like ancient magical artifacts or even the remnants of the elven civilizations?"  
  
"No, sorry. I think you should go after the gold. After all, no one can have too much of that."  
  
"Hm, so you say." Alain opened his mouth to make another remark just as a loud explosion outside nearly rocked the tavern from its foundation. For one long moment after no one spoke. They all stared at the door, hoping against hope that whatever was outside didn't try to make its way inside. Nothing like this had ever happened in Fisher's Cove before. It wasn't some war-torn city under siege by an invading army. Even the much-talked-about murder of most of the Arielle's crew and the subsequent theft of its cargo that had forced the governor to restrict access to the docks had nothing on what was happening now.  
  
As quickly as the silence had descended, sound returned. Men began yelling at the tops of their voices, barmaids began screaming, and everyone tried to rush headlong out the back door. Instead of following them, Vegeta ducked beneath the table and grabbed the ankles of his companions, pulling them under with him. He did so none-too-soon. The front door of the Serpent burst open and six black-clad warriors burst in. The people trying to escape were forced to turn and fight.  
  
They watched as the rearmost of the crowd was cut down where they stood, having no time to even attempt to defend themselves. The men behind them drew swords and knives, stepping over the fallen bodies to meet their attackers head on. It was apparent by the easy way the Black Ones attacked that they had no chance, but still they fought on. The crowd behind them grew smaller as more and more people successfully escaped. Vegeta was all set to let out the breath he'd been holding for the past minute when he heard more screams, this time coming from the back room. He knew then that there would be no escape for them.  
  
"We have to get out of here before we're killed," Vegeta whispered. Alain was the closest to the door. It would be up to him to move first and make it out of the tavern before Kakarotto and Vegeta could follow.  
  
"You have to run for it when you think they're distracted enough," he told the terrified young man. "I mean it, or we'll die because of you."  
  
That distance between the table they were hiding under and the door looked to be a mile long. He tried to stop the trembling threatening to overtake his body and shifted so that he was on his hands and knees.  
  
Kakarotto nudged him. "I'll give you the signal." Then he closed his eyes and began to chant very softly in a language neither of them were familiar with. For a few tense seconds they waited for something to happen and then a rag lying on the bar caught afire, the blaze igniting instantly and burning brightly as if the rag had been soaked in oil. The soldiers and their victims all jumped as one, then the soldiers tried to put it out, but it refused to be doused. By this time the fire had spread to the bar and the wood was quickly being consumed by the flames.  
  
"Now!" Kakarotto said, his voice slightly hoarse as if he'd been screaming. Alain needed no further signal. He scrambled from beneath the table and bolted for the door like a frightened horse, Kakarotto and Vegeta right behind him. They would not be able to save those people themselves, but hopefully the warriors could gain an advantage over the soldiers now that there was a fire to distract them and make a clear path the door.  
  
The three of them faltered in the entranceway. Somehow Hell had come to claim Fisher's Cove while they'd stopped to have a drink. "Holy shit," Alain breathed. Vegeta couldn't have said it better himself.  
  
Every building as far as they could see was on fire, as were several of the ships moored in the harbor. The unknown warriors were fighting people in the streets, most of whom were being killed after engaging them only for a second. There were quite a few bodies without their heads and even more people still alive but in horrible pain if the sounds they were making were any indication. The stench of blood and gore mingled with the smell of burnt wood and flesh, causing all three of them to instantly become sick to their stomachs.  
  
"What's the quickest way back to the main city?" the prince asked, praying that his stomach didn't rebel against him. When he opened his mouth to speak, the foul smell of street seemed to settle thickly on his tongue so that he was able to taste death. Vegeta pulled his tunic over his mouth and nose to keep out the worst of it.  
  
"Yes, we have to get back, don't we?" Alain said this mostly to himself. His eyes were wide and showing too much white, a sure sign that he was losing his grip on reality.  
  
"Hold yourself together," Vegeta commanded. "When we're safe, that's when you'll have the chance to fall to pieces."  
  
He nodded and seemed to recover from his terror. "It's this way." He darted out from the doorway and down the street, the two of them following as closely as they could. It was a narrow escape from the battle ax one man was wielding; Vegeta could feel the air stir as the blade missed his neck by inches and embedded itself in the wooden doorframe. When he had left home looking for adventure, this had definitely not been what he'd had in mind.  
  
They darted into a narrow alley that was barely wide enough to squeeze past a large wooden barrel sitting beside a closed door that was being used to hold garbage. At the end of the alley was a stone wall that Alain and Kakarotto climbed over with ease. Vegeta, being far shorter than the two of them, had a little trouble. The teen smiled sheepishly at him from atop the wall and offered him a hand up.  
  
"This way," their guide hissed as another explosion nearly knocked them from their feet. Vegeta absently wondered what they were using to cause such a reaction. It wasn't something he'd ever seen used before.  
  
"Come on," Kakarotto said, grabbing his hand and pulling him. "I'm not going to lose you."  
  
More buildings caught afire as the soldiers moved inland. They were still a street away, but the ruthless men were moving fast. They were soon able to see the inner stone wall separating to two sections of the city and quickened their pace as salvation grew nearer. Apparently many other people had the same idea because men, women, and children of all ages were also running for the gate. Things were bound to be clogged and they couldn't afford to wait calmly while everyone slowly funneled through.  
  
"The gate's closed!" Alain's dismayed cry floated above the cries of everyone else for a brief moment. Kakarotto and Vegeta also rounded the corner and saw a large mass of people all shouting at the soldiers on the battlements who refused to let them pass. The people at the very front were even trying to fell the gates, but they were made of steel and would not be moved.  
  
"What are they thinking?" the teen asked, his eyes wide. "Don't they know that everyone will die if they don't open the gate?"  
  
"Of course they know, Kakarotto, but they don't give a damn." Vegeta stared at the men, his eyes cold. "They don't want whatever's invading the lower city to spread to the upper. It's where all the nobles and wealthy people live, after all."  
  
"It's cruel!"  
  
"It's normal."  
  
Alain shook his head. "We can't just stand here and wait for death to find us. There has to be some other way into the upper city. A crack in the wall, a building close enough for us to use to get over..."  
  
Kakarotto's eyes darted around the street, searching for a way to the roof of a building. There was a wagon nearby that was high enough to make it to the low roof of a porch. Then it would be a simple thing to climb to the upper roof and over the inner wall. The fire was spreading rapidly behind them and the death-screams of the victims were drawing closer. "Follow me!"  
  
He grabbed Vegeta by the waist, ignoring his protests, and boosted him up high enough to reach the top. He did the same for Alain and followed them up. "Jump over onto that roof. It's not so far." There were actually about ten feet separating the wagon from the roof, but he wasn't going to tell them that. Alain gulped, but leapt across, falling hard to his knees on the other side. Vegeta took one look at the distance and shook his head.  
  
"I am definitely not going to make it over," he said in a very calm and logical manner that was far more disturbing than if he would have allowed himself to become hysterical. "I'm too short."  
  
"Then I'll give you help. Hold onto me and don't let go." Kakarotto's face was determined. It was a far different expression than what the prince had grown used to. Gone was the meek teenager who apologized for every perceived insult. He was now a man.  
  
Vegeta held him around the neck, his legs wrapped around his waist, once again feeling like a small child. "Let's just get this over with." Kakarotto smiled slightly and kissed him briefly. Then he began to chant in that strange language again, the wind whipping up around them and fluttering their clothes and hair. The prince felt himself moving slowly upward, which he thought was impossible since he was wrapped around Kakarotto and his lover's feet were firmly planted on the wagon. Then he looked down and realized that they were, indeed, floating upward.  
  
"What else can you do?" he asked, marveling at the sensation of flying.  
  
"Many things, Master. Many things." They landed on the roof gracefully and Kakarotto ended the spell. "Come on, there's no time to waste."  
  
From atop the house, they could see that the distance between it and the high wall was about the width of two large wagons, which was another way of saying that it was too far for them to jump. Kakarotto had to cast his flotation spell again to get them across, which was no small feat since there were now two people hanging onto him instead of just one. Once they were on the battlements, Vegeta unsheathed his sword while Kakarotto crouched into a battle stance. Alain, not being a fighter, lowered himself so that he wasn't easily seen and stayed put.  
  
"We don't want to hurt you, but if you won't open the gate for them we won't have a choice." Kakarotto said this in a tone of voice that was a cross between a placation and a warning.  
  
The city guard before him was a young Saiya-jin man who was probably fresh out of training. He looked at Kakarotto, seeing the seriousness of his statement in his eyes, then turned his head to look out over the lower city and the raging inferno it was quickly becoming. He dropped his weapon to the stone and shook his head. "There's nothing anyone can do anyway. Not against demons."  
  
"Demons?" Vegeta scoffed. "There's no such thing."  
  
"What do you call what's happening, then? It can only be the work of demons! What old Brack saw through his spyglass wasn't normal. Those men in black can only be demons in disguise!" He walked over to the gate mechanism he was supposed to be guarding and unlocked it. Then he began to slowly turn the wheel so that the heavy steel gate slid aside.  
  
"Lad, what are you doing?!" Another soldier farther down the battlement shouted in surprise. "You'll bring the lot of them down onto the rest of the city!"  
  
"We're all going to die anyway," the young guard said without a trace of hysteria or sadness. He seemed quite accepting of his possible fate. "Whether this gate is closed or not."  
  
People began squeezing through before the gate was even fully open. They ran into the upper city, mass panic fueling them. Other people who had no idea what was going on caught their maddened fever and began to run with them, joining their own screams to the tumult rising above the city. And behind them the warriors reached the gate like a great wave of death, their steel weapons painted red with blood.  
  
"Close the gate, damn you!" the other soldier cried. The young man quickly began turning the wheel in the opposite direction even though not everyone had passed through. A few people narrowly escaped being impaled by the sharp spikes on the edge, while others were not so lucky. The rest were trapped on the same side as the invaders and they scattered like leaves in the wind, trying to disappear into the narrow lane running between the wall and the nearest buildings. Some of them were able to get away, but most were butchered where they stood.  
  
Those on the battlements watched it all, completely unable to do anything to stop it. Alain grabbed Kakarotto's arm and shook him, trying desperately to get his attention. "You have power I've never seen before. Can't you do something?" Another tortured scream rent the air until it was cut off by the parting of the woman's head from her shoulders.  
  
"No," the teen said softly, his heart feeling each and every needless death. The Elders had expressly forbidden using magic beyond the borders of their village for this very reason. 'People will always look to a sorcerer to solve all their problems,' they'd said. 'Especially the ones we can do nothing about.' It hurt him to watch knowing that even he could not stop death. "They are far too numerous and, even if they weren't, their own magic is too great."  
  
"Their own magic?" Vegeta stared hard at the men, trying to imagine so many people having the kind of power he'd only heard about in fairy tales. "All of them?"  
  
"Most, at least." Something seemed to occur to him suddenly because he grabbed Vegeta and Alain and forced them down with him. "Everyone get as low as you can! They can use magic!" Which meant that they had probably caused the explosions and the fires with their innate power. None of them were safe on the battlements, even less so than on the ground. "How do we get down?" He then spied a small tower about three dozen feet away from them that seemed the likely answer. "Nevermind. Head to the tower!"  
  
They crawled at a snail's pace toward it, not daring for even a second to raise their heads above the low walls lest they become a target. As the first explosion rocked the wall, they were less than a few feet away. "Don't think about what's happening behind us, or what's already happened to people who did nothing to deserve it," Kakarotto said in a calm, encouraging. "Think only of escaping, of surviving to see another day."  
  
"Of surviving to see another day with you," Vegeta said quietly.  
  
Another explosion hit a part of the wall nearer to them and large portions of it collapsed from the force. It was then that Alain reached the tower and had begun descending the ladder he found inside. Kakarotto waited for Vegeta to squeeze in the narrow space with him before he descended himself. Being back on the ground brought a profound sense of relief to the three of them and they decided to hide in the tower until it became unsafe to stay there any longer.  
  
"I think I can put this down as the absolute worst day of my life," Vegeta said with a trace of amusement. It was either make jokes or start to scream so loudly he didn't know if he would ever stop. "Definitely not what I was looking for when I left home for the first time."  
  
Kakarotto moved closer so that he could embrace him. "This is... horrible. There aren't any words to describe how bad all of this is."  
  
"Be happy about that. If there were, it implies that this sort of thing happens often enough to assign it its very own term."  
  
"My family, my friends," Alain whispered in a corner. "All dead! And for what?"  
  
"The Key." Of this, Kakarotto was sure. "They want the Key."  
  
"But how did they know it was here?" Vegeta whispered. "It's been four years.  _You_  didn't even know you would be here until a week ago!"  
  
He shook his head. "They must have diviners. Their magic is tainted like that of the people who slaughtered my clansmen." His body began to shake with sobs as the truth started to sink in. "They're here because of me.  _I'm_  the reason they killed all of these people."


	7. Chapter 7

"Because of you?" Alain said, raising his head up from his knees. " _You're_  the reason?"  
  
"No, he's not," Vegeta snapped. "It's all them. They were the ones to kill these people and set fire to their homes and businesses." Another explosion shook the tower. "Kakarotto had nothing to do with it."  
  
The teen's tears soaked into his shirt. "But I have the Key," he mumbled.  
  
"Forget about the damn Key. Forget about their reasons. We have to concentrate on getting out of this alive. Nothing else matters but survival, remember?"  
  
"I remember," he whispered. The day lit up with sound once more.  
  
The wall behind them partially collapsed and daylight began to leak inside their hiding place. Through the hole they could see dark shapes drawing nearer, their hands raised towards the sky. Kakarotto stumbled to his feet and stumbled toward the wooden door that led into the upper city. It seemed that their hiding place was no longer safe.  
  
"Where can we go?" he asked Alain before freezing on the small street as he realized that fire had claimed the buildings nearest to the wall. He seriously doubted that there was a safe place in the entire city.  
  
"Outside. Beyond the walls. Maybe we can make it back to your inn to get your things, but I'm not sure if there's enough time."  
  
"Forget about it, we can always buy more." Vegeta took Kakarotto's hand again and ran after Alain who was, once again, taking them on a roundabout route.  
  
The governor's army finally made an appearance. They could hear them march down the main street and even caught glimpses of them from between buildings. One of the soldiers let out a yell that spurred his comrades into action and the sounds of intense fighting could be heard throughout the area. From down an alley as the three of them moved past it, Kakarotto could see one of the barbarian warriors shove an old man's body off his sword with his foot and keep on fighting. He had little hope that the Fisher's Cove army would win.  
  
Soon the sounds of battle and the screams of the dying became a distant memory. Alain had led them right to the street where their inn was located, the people in this part of the city still untouched by the violence that was yet to come.  
  
"I'll go up and get everything," Kakarotto said. "You two need to warn everyone." Without waiting for a response, he ran across the street and entered the building.  
  
Vegeta didn't relish the thought of trying to get everyone to believe that they were in mortal danger. The only unusual thing most of the people in this neighborhood had probably seen that day was the army riding out to the lower city. You could not see the fires from where he stood nor could you hear the sounds of battle. But he would try anyway even though he felt it was a lost cause because Kakarotto had trusted him to do so.  
  
"Listen up!" he shouted as loudly as he could. "You need to pack up your most important things, gather up your families, and head towards the eastern gate. There is a barbarian army heading up here that has no conscience whatsoever!"  
  
A few people on the street began to panic and do as told, but most ignored him. The prince rolled his eyes, asked the heavens for patience, and tried again. "Look, I'm not doing this because I'm worried about you people. I'm doing this because I really have no desire to see anyone else murdered in front of me today. If you don't believe me, you can head towards the lower city and see for yourselves. You need to only go six or seven blocks west. Probably can see the smoke from the fires after only four blocks."  
  
A woman began to scream. "He's right!" she cried. "The city's on fire!" She pointed towards where the smoke was darkening the sky, much closer than it should have been.  
  
"Can't even trust the army to slow them down," Vegeta said, irritated. "Kakarotto, we're out of time!" He was worried that his lover hadn't heard him. "Go!" He instead turned to the crowd gathering at the end of the small square. "Run away and tell the people farther up to do the same! You don't want to die like they did in the lower city, trust me."  
  
While he paced in front of the inn, Alain helped everyone escape. There were several very old people who he knew would not make it, but he aided them anyway to the opposite edge of the square from the spreading horror. Then he returned to Vegeta's side and joined his restless pacing.  
  
"I'm ready," Kakarotto said, pushing several people ahead of him. "Had to warn the people still inside."  
  
"Of course," Vegeta murmured. "There's no time to waste." He grabbed his pack and shouldered it, then they followed the citizens of Fisher's Cove out of the doomed city.  
  


***

  
It was depressing to see just how few people had survived the battle, if you could even call it that. Kakarotto was more of the belief that the aim of the barbarians had been wholesale slaughter. Fisher's Cove had done nothing to antagonize them, and whatever fortune they could have taken from it would be long gone by the time the fires finally ran out of fuel. He, Vegeta, and roughly seven hundred citizens watched the city burn until there was nothing left. The only thing that remained relatively unscathed was the high stone wall running around three sides the city that also served to separate the two sections of it, but even that was destroyed in places due to several strong magical explosions. The largest city on the continent was now only a memory.  
  
No one knew why they had been targeted, no one save for Kakarotto. He knew as well as he knew himself that he was the reason so many innocent people had to suffer. He stood somewhat apart from everyone else, his face covered in soot that had spread on the wind, his clothes ripped from stone shrapnel and slightly singed where the flames had come too close, and watched the barbarians make camp in the valley below. They brought supplies from the ships moored in the harbor and erected tents in mockery of the survivors who had no shelter out in the hills other than the trees. He was sure they knew they were there, but none of them moved to finish the job that they had started.  
  
"Kakarotto, please speak to me." Vegeta didn't like the pallor of his skin or the trembling in his body. The teen hadn't spoken since they'd escaped the confinement of the city and the look on his face was vacant as if his mind had gone on a long journey and left his body behind.  
  
"He's going into shock," an unfamiliar voice said. Vegeta looked up at the newcomer, a middle-aged woman with a kind face. Her black hair was pulled back into a tight bun that no strands dared to escape, an amazing feat for someone of Saiya-jin origin. Upon closer inspection he could see that she was not entirely of his race, that there was at least an equal amount of human blood flowing through her veins as well. "We have to get him warm or he could die."  
  
"What?" Vegeta said numbly as the woman grabbed a nearby blanket from a family and wrapped Kakarotto in it.  
  
"Sad to say, this isn't uncommon after a traumatic experience like the one we've all just had. I suspect that, as what happened starts to sink in for people, I'll see more of it."  
  
"Who are you?" he asked, helping her to ease Kakarotto down onto the ground.  
  
"A healer. I've been trained to handle these things so don't worry." She placed two fingers against the pulse in the teen's neck and focused. "His heartbeat's steady, he'll be fine. But keep a close eye on him, all right? He could get worse at any moment."  
  
Vegeta could only press his face into Kakarotto's shoulder and hold him close.  
  
The survivors kept watch all night, waiting for the barbarians to launch their final attack, but it never came. Children slumbered fitfully, their heads in their parents laps, while old women cried softly in the darkness. Kakarotto's skin had finally regained its normal color and temperature close to dawn so the prince returned the blanket to the family it had come from, thanking them for their generosity.  
  
"They're waiting for something or someone," Kakarotto said suddenly, his voice loud in the pre-dawn twilight. "Or else they would have attacked by now."  
  
The thought of someone powerful enough to give the warriors pause made the blood run cold in his veins.  
  
In the valley, the barbarians slowly came to life. Cook fires were started and morning rituals were seen to in plain sight, much to the disgust of the awake survivors with strong eyesight. As the men settled down to breakfast, a single man detached himself from the group and began to walk up the hill towards them. Kakarotto rose and immediately moved to meet him.  
  
"Stay put, all of you!" Vegeta commanded as he rushed to follow. "See to your families."  
  
"Kakarotto," he said once he was close enough, "this is madness." The teen continued forward as if he never heard him. Vegeta grabbed his arm and forcefully halted his movement and spun him around so that they were face-to-face. "He's their leader, the man who gave them free reign to do whatever they felt like to Fisher's Cove and its people. If what you say is true, and he wants the Key, then it's suicide to meet with him."  
  
"This is  _my_  battle, Vegeta," Kakarotto said earnestly. "Trying to deny that will only bring more heartache." He caressed his cheek then kissed him long and hard. "I have to walk alone."  
  
"No!" Vegeta shouted as he headed off to what the prince could only call Certain Doom. "As your Master, I forbid you!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Vegeta," he said. Kakarotto did not stop walking.  
  
Alain moved to stand beside the prince. He had wandered amongst the people the night before, searching for familiar faces and for any sign of a city official. He hadn't yet found a member of the government, but he had met with a few childhood friends and had spent the night with them. "He's really brave."  
  
"More like really stupid." But he couldn't help feeling proud of Kakarotto's determination to protect those who could not protect themselves. He supposed that his nature wouldn't allow him to stand idly by while there was a chance, albeit a very small one, that he could spare them further grief.  
  


***

  
"What do you want?" Kakarotto said once he was near enough, the bland expression on his face and the steadiness of his voice hardly betraying the terror he felt inside.  
  
The man was taller than even his six-foot-two height and infinitely more muscled. He didn't really look like any villain he could imagine. His black hair was cut short and neat, as was his mustache, and his black clothing and armor was free of rips and bloodstains. He smiled at Kakarotto and it was actually a pleasant one.  
  
"You already know what we want. It's the same thing we've always wanted but have never been fortunate enough to find. Until now."  
  
"I am not giving you the Key," he said flatly. It was what his now-extinct clan had died to protect. He would not dishonor their memory by giving the enemy what they sought.  
  
"Of course you're not." The "pleasant gentleman" persona faded and "ruthless killer" pushed its way to the surface. "I had hoped that you would refuse. This will make things much more interesting."  
  
Kakarotto was instantly on alert for all physical attacks, but was not able to guard against metaphysical ones.  
  
It felt as if someone was gripping his brain with steel fingers and was trying to pull it out through an exit far too small for it to fit through. Kakarotto let out a strangled groan and collapsed to his knees, though he did not realize that he had moved. His entire world had narrowed down to the pressure and pain he felt within his skull and nothing else mattered beyond escaping from it.  
  
"My priest will have a lovely time with you, but I think I'll take my own revenge out on you first. We've had to endure much because of you."  
  
Tendrils of corrupted magic began to invade him, pulling a reluctant answer from his own magic. They were of the same source, he distantly realized, but the barbarian leader's own power had been perverted somehow.  _All_  of their magic was like this.  
  
It wound around his own magic and bound it so tightly that it could not move. He felt the small amount of power he had called to his hand fade and vanish as if he'd never summoned it in the first place.  
  
Then the nightmares started.  
  
They were also memories. Memories of a time he had done his best to forget, a time when he was innocent and without worry. His mother and father and clansmen were still alive, their voices adding to the cheerful noise that was daily life in the village. He thought he was young in them, knew he was young -- it was back before he'd begun his training so that he would be able to protect the Key even if all of the other protectors were gone. Everything that was done in the village, from eating to sleeping to loving, was done with full knowledge that the end of it all could come at any moment. But no one had guessed that it would be so soon. The Elders had known that the barbarians were on their way, but kept it from everyone until it was far too late. They had come riding out of the mist gathered over the swamps too numerous to count and no one had been able to choose their fate. No one except for the Keeper of the Key, a twelve-year-old boy known simply as Kakarotto.  
  
And even he was still bound by the events of four years ago that had killed his people. It hadn't ended there, only began.  
  
  
 _He remembered the day they attacked as if it had happened only yesterday, exactly how he would remember it, he feared, every day until the day he died. It dawned overcast, but still warm, and he went to meet his master after breakfast just as he had done every day since he was five except for the weekly holy day of rest. He was walking across the wide square that all of the small village houses faced when his senses told him that something was not right. Freezing where he stood, he looked around carefully, examining everything his eyes could see, but finding nothing out of the ordinary. He dismissed it as paranoia, then, and continued on his way. But what if he had seen the threat for what it was? What if he had sounded the alarm and gave his people the warning they had sorely lacked? Would more people have survived, or would their deaths have still come that day regardless of what he'd done? Kakarotto liked to believe he could have done nothing to prevent it, that he didn't have their deaths on his conscience, but he also wanted to believe that they'd had a chance, no matter how small, to survive._  
  
The Elders shouted a warning later that morning as he sat in the usual ritual meditation that his master forced him to go through before they began to train for the day. It took a little while for the panic to sink into his mind, but Master Totepo grabbed his small hand, hauling him to his feet with little effort, and told him to run into the forest where there was a designated safe place in case of attack. It was maintained religiously by the clan and there was enough food and clean water there to last him a week if he was careful. When he did not move to run away, the master shoved him so hard that he stumbled then ran out of the training room to join the fight. Kakarotto stared after him until he was no longer in sight, curious about what was going on. So he did not escape as he was told, instead following the sounds of battle to the edge of the village and watched with horror as his clansmen were butchered one-by-one, starting first with the warriors and then moving on the ones who had not been trained to defend themselves. He saw the small, inert bodies of his friends lying on the ground and knew grief for the very first time.  
  
"No..." he said weakly, his mind reluctant to believe what his eyes told him was true. More men emerged from the moors, the thick white fog that perpetually blanketed them swirling around their leather-clad legs. He felt a hand grab him and stifled the scream that was rising up into his throat before he found himself pressed closely to someone's chest. He breathed in deeply and recognized his mother's familiar scent.  
  
"My son, you must go." Her arms held him tightly, refusing to release him even as she spoke the words. "We will meet up with you later."  
  
"Mother." She was crying, her warm tears trickling into his hair.  
  
"Go!" He kissed him on the forehead and pushed him towards the hiding place. "We will always love you."  
  
And that was the last time he saw her alive. When he returned to the village several hours later, the barbarians were long gone and every single man, woman, and child of his village lay dead on the plain. He moved amongst the bodies, closing eyes and straightening bent limbs, knowing that there was no way he could build a funeral pyre large enough to cremate them all. So he had sung the death chant of his people, gathered up a few personal belongings, and left them to the scavengers.  
  
  
Kakarotto couldn't breathe. It was like something the size of a house was sitting on his chest. He tried to force his eyes open to at least see his attacker, but no muscle in his body would respond to his urging. Distantly he thought he could hear a hoarse yell that sounded as if someone's heart was breaking, but he could not be sure because there were other voices in his mind, all of them whispering obscene and hateful things.  
  
When darkness rushed up to claim him, he was grateful. He hadn't known how much longer he could have taken being immobilized and completely without the magic he'd felt every day for as far back as his memory could take him without going insane.  
  
His last thought was of Vegeta and how he was likely taking the sight of him on the ground completely helpless. He promised the prince silently that if they both made it out of this alive that he would do anything he desired of him without protest. It was all he could think of to offer as compensation.


	8. Chapter 8

When Kakarotto went down underneath the invisible onslaught he thought his heart would stop. Aloud he called him names his long-dead mother would have blushed to hear (before she had him whipped, of course), but in his mind he begged gods he didn't really believe in to spare his love. He hoped that Kakarotto had some sort of plan to get out of his current predicament so he did not move from his spot lest he ruin it. When the barbarian leader gathered up his unmoving form in his arms, he knew that there was no plan whatsoever and that he had to save him at whatever the cost. Vegeta ran top-speed down the slope towards Kakarotto then just as quickly found himself on his back on the ground staring up at the sky, his brain foggy from his impact with the invisible brick wall surrounding the two. Of course the man would have erected some sort of barrier to keep everyone out. Vegeta cursed himself for his stupidity.  
  
"Are you all right?" Alain asked, helping him to his feet. The glare on Vegeta's told him that he had asked a very stupid question. As soon as the prince had regained his balance, he took off for the barrier again, hitting it as hard as he could with both fists. When that did not work, he drew his sword and tried to hack it to pieces. The barbarian leader smirked at him all the while, Kakarotto lying still in his arms as if he were dead. Neither Vegeta nor Alain could see his chest move.  
  
"And you call  _us_  barbarians," he said with a laugh. "Do not worry, young princeling, you may have your lover back after we're through with him. He may not still have his mind, but his ass will still be just as tight as it is right now. We do not fuck Saiya-jin scum." Vegeta growled like an animal and renewed his attack on the barrier. The man laughed again and turned away. He walked back towards the camp at a steady pace, but before he got there, he abruptly vanished into thin air as if he had never existed. With his departure, the barrier vanished as well and Vegeta fell forward onto the grass with the force of his swing, his sword flying from his hand to land a few feet away.  
  
His fingers clutched at the earth. "He's gone," he whispered. "That stupid kid, what was he thinking? No one sane confronts people who have just finished burning a city to the ground after decimating its population by seventy-five percent."  
  
"He wasn't thinking of himself, no," Alain said quietly. "He was thinking of everyone else. They want something he has and now they'll get it and leave the rest of us alone."  
  
"Do you honestly think people like that are to be trusted?" Vegeta's voice was high with hysteria. "They'll probably kill you just for the fun of it!"  
  
A thin wail sounded behind them, proof that there had been other witnesses to Kakarotto's sacrifice and Vegeta's thoughtless words.  
  
The younger man grabbed the prince by the shoulders and shook him. "Get a hold of yourself! You won't be able to rescue him if you're wallowing in misery!"  
  
"Rescue?" He said it as if he had never heard the word before.  
  
"Yes. I can lead you to the barbarian lands."  
  
Vegeta stared at him in disbelief. "This isn't your fight. Just tell me where to go and you can stay here with your people."  
  
"My people are dead." He said this quietly and with no hint of the sorrow he felt deep within his heart. "And the ones responsible just happened to take your lover with them back to their homeland. I need retribution and you need a guide. Simple."  
  
"Simple..." Vegeta suddenly began to laugh, shaking his head at Alain's oversimplification of the crisis. "Alright, Alain. If you want to tag along and get yourself killed, be my guest."  
  
He held out his hand. "You won't regret it."  
  
"Me? Of course not. But you probably will." They shook on it firmly to seal the deal.  
  


***

  
The world was very dark when Kakarotto awoke and he didn't know whether it was because the sun had sank or if it was because the place he was in had no windows. There was also a third possibility, one that he didn't want to consider: blindness. Whatever the reason, it made him uneasy not to be able to see anything even though he was sure his eyes were open.  
  
When he tried to ease the ache in his limbs he realized that he was tied down with thick ropes at his wrists and ankles. Strong ropes, too, because they hardly gave an inch when he pulled on them.  
  
So Kakarotto could only stare up at a ceiling he could not see, hoping that whatever the barbarians decided to do with him would not hurt too badly. He also spent a considerable amount of time silently begging Vegeta to forgive him for risking his life. He had thought that he might be able to somehow kill the leader, but he had never once considered what the man's corrupted magic would do to his own.  
  
There was no warning before the door of the room opened to allow a yellow beam of light so intense that it felt capable of splitting his head wide open to spill into the room. Against his will Kakarotto groaned, then clenched his eyes shut. He hadn't wanted them to know that he was awake, but it was too late now.  
  
"So you're conscious," a low voice said. The air shifted as the man drew closer to him and he tensed up in expected pain. "That's good. Ra Naga can hardly contain himself."  
  
"Who are you?" He cautiously cracked open his eyes and, finding the room pleasantly dim, opened them all the way. The man leaning over him was dressed in a long hooded black cloak so that the only thing visible was his surprisingly young face and his thin, bronzed hands. His dark eyes also didn't hold any of the maliciousness that the leader's had. They were sympathetic and even regretful.  
  
"That's not important. You won't be here long enough to truly care." He walked back over to the door, cracked it slightly to speak to someone, then closed it again. As Kakarotto looked around the small chamber, he noticed that the soft light came from the dozens of candles lit along the walls. He knew that the monk or priest or whatever he was hadn't had time to do it by hand, so he must have used his magic.  
  
"You're quite handsome for a Saiya-jin," the priest said as he gathered his tools. Kakarotto suddenly felt as if he lay naked before him. After a quick look at himself, he realized that he probably felt that way because all of his clothes were missing. "I'd heard that Saiya-jin bodies were disfigured from all the battles they fought and that they painted themselves in mud." He chuckled. "A lot like what you've probably heard about us, I imagine."  
  
Kakarotto looked away in shame. "We have a lot in common."  
  
"More than we realize."  
  
Someone else entered the room, but this time the door remained open far longer. With a growing sense of horror, Kakarotto realized that at least five people had entered, one of which was the barbarian leader. He approached him on the side opposite the priest and gently caressed his face.  
  
"You have no idea what this means to me, little one," he said tenderly. "The Kir will sing of this for ages."  
  
"Sing of what?" he said bitterly. "Madness and destruction?"  
  
Before he could even register the movement, the caress became a slap. His head whipped to one side and he tasted blood from where his tooth had cut into his lip. "Of course you don't realize the full importance of this. You're only a little monkey after all." He stepped away and took his place near the other men who had barely entered the room. "It's time, Tet Suel."  
  
"As you wish, Ra Naga."  
  
The priest, Tet Suel, approached Kakarotto and began to check the restraints on his wrists. "You'll probably be awake for most of it," he whispered. "I am sorry."  
  
The teen smiled shakily and said, "Not nearly as sorry as I am."  
  
"Tet Suel!" Ra Naga snapped. The priest flinched and quickly checked the ropes at his ankles. They were quite secure.  
  
Pulling out a piece of white chalk from the objects assembled on a small table nearby, Tet Suel kneeled and began to sketch symbols on the floor around the table he was tied down upon. From the little that Kakarotto was able to see out of the corner of his eye, they weren't any he had ever seen before. Their magicks were too different, he supposed, for the barbarians to use the same symbols that his dead clansmen had even though he was sure that they stemmed from the same source.  
  
Once the writing was complete, Tet Suel rose and replaced the chalk with a long-handled ritual knife. Kakarotto took one look at the blade, candlelight reflecting off its shining surface, and swallowed reflexively.  
  
The priest began to chant in a low voice that rose in volume with every word. The sound of it caused shivers to run up and down Kakarotto's spine that were amplified by the fact that he was completely unable to even raise his head more than a few inches. Tet Suel was going to take the Key, the object that his lost clan had spent generations protecting against evil, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop him.  
  
And with that realization, as if the gods were issuing their divine justice, the priest's knife tore into the soft, unmarked skin of his chest. Kakarotto had one moment of blissful shock before the pain of the intrusion impacted his nervous system and he began to scream as fast as he could draw air into his lungs.  
  
"Now that," Ra Naga said to his fellow chieftains (some of whom were looking faintly ill), "is music to my ears."  
  
Tet Suel's chanting reached a crescendo. He slowly slid the sharp knife down the center of the teen's heaving chest, leaving a cut several inches long but not very deep. It still felt as if he was trying to cut his heart out unfortunately. Dark crimson blood welled immediately to the surface to trickle down his sides and abdomen, pooling on the stone table beneath his body. When he removed the knife, it was a relief not to feel anything moving around inside of him anymore, but the pain didn't lessen in the slightest.  
  
" _Ab sorta! Y te alhot ardrit!_ "  
  
Kakarotto's pain-filled mind struggled to sharpen when he heard these words. They were familiar from hundreds, if not thousands of magic rituals he'd witnessed over the years. 'I entreat you! Please lend me your strength!' The words were a supplication to the god of magic, Atla, who was said to have complete control over the flow of magical energy in the land. Every spell a magic-user cast successfully was only because the god had willed it.  
  
He hoped that Atla turned their request down flat. The searing, throbbing pain in his chest would be more than worth it if he could see the defeated expression on Ra Naga's face. His touch made him feel unclean, even more so than lying in his own blood did. Only Vegeta was allowed to touch him that way.  
  
But when Tet Suel continued the ceremony after a brief, respectful pause, he knew that there would be no last-minute rescue. Not for him. Something began to gather in his chest behind the wound, seeming to pull his magic out of his very cells to collect in one condensed ball of pure energy. It felt as if it had a tangible form that shifted aside his internal organs and stole what little breath he had gathered again after the shock of the knife penetrating his flesh.  
  
Then that ball of energy decided that it wanted out in the very worst way. It pushed up against the wound, wringing more screams from his damaged throat, and forced its way through an exit that was far too small for it to fit through. Distantly, Kakarotto realized the extra benefit of his restraints: not only did they keep him from running away but they also kept him still enough for Tet Suel to finish the ceremony. He tore at the ropes, rubbing his wrists and ankles raw and bloody, but could not escape the mind-destroying pain within his body. When the energy was finally forced through, Kakarotto collapsed against the table, chest heaving and sweat slicking his skin. The bleeding of the wound had slowed somehow so that it was only a sluggish trickle instead of the flood it had once been.  
  
"It is done," the priest said in his normal tone, his voice no longer echoing from the walls as he raised it in supplication to the heavens. He sounded worn-out, but his exhaustion would never come close to that of the teen who had been at the center of the ceremony.  
  
"So that's the Key." Ra Naga took it and held it gently within his cupped hands. "I can't say that it looks like anything I was expecting."  
  
"Are you disappointed?"  
  
"How can I be?" he smiled. "It's the Key to our salvation." He held it out over Kakarotto's torn and bloody chest, taunting him with it. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" When Kakarotto snarled weakly at him he laughed long and loud.  
  
For the rest of his life (the length of which depended entirely on the mood of his captors at the moment) he would never forget the sight of the Key. It was not shaped like any key he had ever seen before. Instead it had the shape of some sort of creature with semi-translucent white skin.  
  
Then the four tiny little limbs attached to the bean-shaped trunk moved and he knew that it really  _was_  a creature and it had been  _living inside of him_. Kakarotto's eyes widened in shock and he suddenly found the room to be spinning wildly. Then all was darkness once more.


	9. Chapter 9

The barbarians, or the Kir as they were known to themselves and their allies, were desert people. When Alain told him this, Vegeta thought at first that he was mistaken. The closest desert a week away and even that was a short estimate. When they'd awakened the morning after Kakarotto was taken, ready to start their journey, the camp in the valley was gone and so were the Kir. There had also been no sign of their ships on the water when Alain and the prince cast off themselves in one of the few surviving boats. The winds were not that strong, and the ship was too large to be rowed, so Vegeta just didn't see how they could have gotten such a head-start on them.  
  
"They can use magic," his guide shrugged. "I guess they conjured up a wind." Vegeta frowned at the reminder that the barbarians had the gift of magic and moodily stared into the water. Trying not to imagine the horrors his lover was going through successfully consumed all of his attention.  
  
The survivors of Fisher's Cove had been given a document signed and stamped by the prince that would prove to the king that they had been told to seek refuge in the Saiya-jin kingdom. While there was not enough room in the castle for them all, nor was there a city within a day's travel large enough to support them all, he supposed that they could build shelter in the forest. There was more than enough game to feed them all for quite some time if they hunted in moderation and several clear streams ran amongst the trees. He had a feeling they would be fine there; the ancient elven magic that protected the king would likely protect them as well.  
  
Alain had never sailed before so he hadn't known that he would be prone to seasickness. Vegeta knew this logically, but he still couldn't be anything but angry at his guide for springing such a thing on him. What little food and water they had salvaged from the stone buildings that hadn't burned he wasted by ejecting it forcefully from his stomach into the ocean. The sounds of him being violently sick were getting to him, as was the sickly expression on Alain's face, and so his temper was often short and vicious.  
  
"I don't know why I'm still here with you," Alain said miserably, his head hanging over the side.  
  
Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Perhaps it's because were out in the middle of the ocean with no land in sight. Unless you would rather swim to our destination?"  
  
He blushed very faintly, feeling like an idiot. "Oh. Right."  
  
The prince sighed. He hoped that they spotted land soon.  
  


***

  
When Kakarotto returned to consciousness with a start, he immediately wondered why. When he could not figure it out within a few seconds, he decided to worry about it later since his body was making its discomfort known. His stomach was empty and grumbling in complaint, his bladder was full to bursting, and the skin over his chest was so tight it felt as if it would tear with the slightest movement. All in all he was in fairly bad shape.  
  
Groaning with the effort, Kakarotto slowly tried to roll over onto his knees. Before that moment he had never known just how many muscles were connected to his chest. The resultant pain of his endeavor threatened to cause him to black out again, but he held on to consciousness with a tenacity that surprised even him and was able to use one hand to reach under his body and relieve himself. Luckily he had not being lying downward on a slope.  
  
"Why did they let me go?" The sand felt warm beneath his hands as he crawled slowly and painfully away from the wet patch he'd created on the ground. He looked down at himself, not at all surprised to see that he was still naked. The cut on his chest had been inexpertly sewn up with overly-large and somewhat messy stitches. He would have a nasty scar to remember the ceremony by. If he managed to survive infection while avoiding starvation and dehydration, that is. Kakarotto groaned aloud and allowed his weary arms to lower his body onto the ground. Why had he survived? He had failed in the one thing he had been charged to do and now the entire world would pay for it.  
  
A harsh, grating cry startled him out of his gloomy thoughts. Turning his head, he spied a crow perched on a large stone staring at him with one dark eye. He hissed at the ill omen and weakly tried to shoo it away. Letting out another caw that seemed to mock him, the bird flew off, its dark body marring the flawless blue of the sky.  
  
The day was not yet hot, but that would change within a few hours. Without any clothing he would be at the mercy of the intense desert sun, but he usually tanned instead of burned so it would be only a mild discomfort. Unfortunately the heat would undoubtedly cause him to sweat which would, in turn, cause him to deplete his body's supply of water and he had none to replace it with. Being left in the middle of a desert with no sustenance whatsoever would kill him as surely as pushing the ritual knife into his heart would have. At least being killed by the knife would have been faster.  
  
Now that he was out there, his innate determination wouldn't allow him to just lie in the sand like a corpse. He was conscious and not in  _too_  much pain so he had to go as far as his legs were able to take him. After that, he would just have to crawl.  
  


***

  
The moment the boat was on the sand, Alain dropped to his knees and laid his cheek against it. For a while he'd thought he would never see dry land again. They had been steering by the sun and the constellations the entire way, trying their best to stay on a somewhat northeasterly course. Vegeta had voiced the opinion before they'd embarked that it would have been safer to follow the coastline, but that would have added a few days onto their journey and there was no time to lose.  
  
"Get up," the prince ordered, shading his eyes with his hand and looking out onto the lifeless desert plain. Here and there he could see patches of hardy plants and rocks, but there was no sign of anything living that walked on two legs. "How far away is the nearest settlement?"  
  
Alain rose and looked around, trying (and failing) to orient himself. "It could be anyway from half a day to nearly a week. I don't know how far north we went."  
  
"Great. Kakarotto could be dying and we have no idea where he might be."  
  
The guide, being the hasty person that he often was, was more than ready to just march headlong into the desert in search of Vegeta's lover and his revenge, but the prince halted him. "I don't want to get lost," he explained as he dug around in his pack and pulled out a bright red tunic of Kakarotto's. It was one of his new ones. He had chosen most of his new shirts by how likely they would blind you, it seemed. He tied the sleeves around the small oar lying in the bottom of the boat and then forced it into the sand. "So we can find our way back," he explained.  
  
"Good idea." He took the small skin of what remained of their precious water from Vegeta and they began to walk northward, eyes scanning the desert for any sign of a person. Or what was left of one after the vultures constantly circling overhead had gotten through with anyone unfortunate enough to die in such a wasteland.  
  
"You see that thick clump of birds right over there?" the prince asked suddenly after about twenty minutes of walking. The flag he'd made of Kakarotto's tunic was still in sight every time they reached the top of a sand dune.  
  
"Yes," Alain said, squinting. "Well, I  _think_  I do, anyway."  
  
"I doubt that's normal. It's like there's something newly dead over there or-" He cut himself off and began to run as quickly as he could over the shifting sand.  
  
"What?" his guide asked, hurrying to catch up.  
  
"Something might be still alive, but the vultures must sense that it's dying. It might be Kakarotto!" No, he  _knew_  it was Kakarotto. Something deep inside told him so.  
  
His feet caught in the sand, causing him to stumble several times, but he picked himself and kept going. The relatively short distance became one of miles as he realized that there were quite a few sand dunes separating them, which dragged the distance out exponentially. By the time Vegeta reached the area where the vultures lurked, flying patiently overhead, his clothes were soaked with sweat and his lungs burned with the effort of breathing. With a quick look behind him, he saw that Alain was no better off, and that he had fallen some distance behind and was doubled over with exhaustion. Another look showed him that the red flag was so distant and partially obscured by the waves of shimmering heat rising up from the sand that it looked like something out of a dream.  
  
He climbed the last dune, the vultures hissing with irritation as if they knew that their prey would be taken from right under their noses. Vegeta froze at the top, his eyes hardly believing the sight in front of him. It was Kakarotto all right, at least he was there somewhere under a thick coating of sand, and he was not moving.  
  
"What have they done to you?" he whispered brokenly, falling to his knees beside his body. Tentatively he reached out one trembling hand to touch his shoulder and roll him over onto his back. He could not see his chest move.  
  
His face was relatively clean save for a layer of sand on the cheek that had lain against the dune. The skin of his face was red and irritated and his lips were dry and cracked from lack of moisture. Trying and knowing that it was useless, Vegeta brushed the sand from him and revealed the nasty wound that marred his chest. His heart clenched as he eyed it.  
  
"Did they take your heart? How could those bastards treat you like this?" He clenched his fists in the sand and bowed his head. "Why did he give me false hope?" he whispered to himself.  
  
"I'm not dead yet," a hoarse voice croaked. "Though I sort of wish that I was."  
  
Vegeta held his breath, but when no more words were forthcoming he thought he had only imagined them. Shaking his head, he continued to clean his lover as best he could while he waited for Alain to finally make it over to them.  
  
"I love you, Kakarotto, and I'm sorry I was too late to save you. I'll see to it that you're buried with your people and then I'll join you wherever you are." Then he allowed the flood of emotion that pushed relentlessly at his barriers to crash over him. Vegeta rested his forehead against Kakarotto's chest and let the tears come.  
  


***

  
It was like there was a wall between him and consciousness. Sometimes he was able to create a hole in it large enough for him to interact with the world beyond his mind, but then his strength faded and the hole closed up. In the twilight world between sleep and wakefulness, he could feel himself swaying with movement and two pairs of hands holding his aching body. He could almost, but not quite, identify the ones gripping him under the arms as their small and slender fingers had touched him many times, but could not put a name, or a face, to their owner.  
  
He had a vague memory of telling someone that he wasn't yet dead, but he did not know whether or not he had spoken it in the Outside World. He couldn't remember much beyond drinking something sweet and rich from a wooden mug, the sound of male laughter flowing around him like water.  
  
Chanting invaded his nightmares before he could pull himself out of them. The words twisted like angry snakes in his mind, bringing with them a ghost of burning, throbbing pain that left him breathless. Several times he thought to reach out to the person tending to him, but he was not sure if his arms actually moved or if he had only imagined it.  
  
His body felt unbearably hot and tight and uncomfortable as the infection raged within him. The angry pulse of the white-hot pain in his chest climbed as the days passed until it filled his entire world with its blinding light. He screamed as it brought with it memories of a blade slicing into his flesh until his cries turned to whimpers as his voice gave out. His body thrashed around in a desperate attempt to escape the pain, inadvertently making it even worse because the kind hands could not successfully hold him still. He would slip into sleep, then, exhausted from fighting the pain and the familiar hand would caress his damp cheek until the darkness claimed him.  
  
Sometimes he heard someone sobbing quietly as if their heart was breaking. Their grief stabbed at him, filled him up to bursting, until he felt as if their pain was a shared thing. He was not aware of it, but oftentimes their tears would mingle on his cheeks.  
  
The tenth day after he was rescued, his fever finally broke. The tears cried on that day were of joy instead of sadness. But even though his body no longer burned, Kakarotto did not wake.  
  
Alain gave up hope after the seventh day, but Vegeta continued to hold on. He wouldn't -- couldn't -- let go of the young man who had changed his world so completely. Every day he tended to him, gently feeding broth to him so he did not starve, bathing him regularly so that infection did not return, efficiently disposing of his waste. He spoke to him often, describing in great detail what they would do once he regained consciousness. At night he curled on the bed, his arm gently around his waist, and dreamed of the moment when his love would finally open his eyes and be with him once more.  
  
And if the worst should happen and Kakarotto did, indeed, die, the tiny vial of poison he carried always in a pouch on his belt was a solid reminder that his own life was not a infinite thing and that he could, with little effort, join his lover in death.


	10. Chapter 10

A few more days passed. Vegeta continued to care for Kakarotto, hoping against hope that he would wake up eventually. Alain no longer visited every day, but he did visit often to check up on the prince and ask if he needed anything. On the second day he did this, five days after he'd left the inn for another, he found Vegeta on his knees beside the bed, his hands clasped and his eyes closed, his face raised to the heavens. He stopped in the doorway and started to quietly back away when he heard the prince begin to speak.  
  
"I'm not sure I believe in any of you, but I'm going to take a chance and ask for a favor anyway. You know what Kakarotto's going through and I want you to consider seriously the point of causing him so much suffering. First you take away everyone he's ever known, next you allow him to be sold into slavery where he was abused and neglected on a constant basis, then you let the barbarians find him, and now you've got him in a coma that he's unable to wake up from. Do you honestly think this is fair to Kakarotto?  
  
"I will do anything to have him back as long as it doesn't take me away from him because that would kill me as surely as his death would. I know it sounds selfish to place a condition on his recovery, but that's just the way I am and nothing's going to change that. Anyway, that's all I have to say. Please save him. He's the only person I've ever loved." Vegeta lowered his head dejectedly and Alain left him alone.  
  
On the sixteenth day since the breaking of Kakarotto's fever, Vegeta was drowsing in the early morning twilight when he felt Kakarotto stir. It instantly brought him awake completely as he hadn't moved since before they'd left the desert. He held his breath and watched the teen's face carefully for any signs that he was waking and when none were forthcoming, he settled back down onto the bed with a disappointed sigh.  
  
"It's alright," he whispered soothingly. "Wake up when you want to. I'll still be here." He kissed him gently on the lips and settled back down beside him.  
  
Kakarotto's mouth moved, but no sound came out. As Vegeta's eyes were closed, he didn't see him trying to speak, but he did feel the movement of his jaw against his face. He shifted so that he was on his knees and took his lover's nearest hand while examining his face closely. "Kakarotto, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand."  
  
It was faint, but he detected movement. Vegeta began to grin and he brought Kakarotto's hand up to his chest. "You're going to be all right. Alain and I took you away from the desert about a month ago. You're in a town called Janan where a really good healer took a look at you and stitched up your injury the right way. Whoever did it before was an imbecile and I should dismember them for exposing you to infection like that."  
  
"No," the teen whispered hoarsely. "Don't leave."  
  
"I won't." He settled back down at his side, throwing an arm gently across his abdomen. "I'm going to stay by your side forever."  
  
And he did stay right there, at least until his bladder's insistence could no longer be ignored. Kakarotto had fallen into a light doze that he did his best not to wake him from as he moved off the bed.  
  
When he finished using the chamber pot, Kakarotto's eyes were open and staring at him. He smiled and just looked at him for a long moment. The teen was pale and shaky-looking, but he was conscious and that's all that mattered.  
  
"Are you hungry? I've only been able to get broth and water into you."  
  
"I'm starving," he sighed. "Can you do me a favor first, please?"  
  
"Anything."  
  
"Can you bring the pot over here? I really have to go." And then he blushed in embarrassment.  
  
Vegeta didn't say a word. He helped him swing his legs over the side of the bed, steadying him with one hand when a momentary bout of dizziness made him lightheaded, then retrieved the chamber pot. He raised it up so that Kakarotto would find it easier to aim, politely averting his eyes when it was obvious that he was uncomfortable with being looked at while peeing. When he was back in bed beneath the covers, Vegeta went downstairs to order a breakfast tray for him. It was still fairly early so the day's morning meal had yet to be prepared, but the cook sent him back with a few leftover sweet rolls from the day before and a glass of milk. Kakarotto's eyes lit up at the sight of it, which caused Vegeta to laugh.  
  
"I know it's been a while since you've eaten solid food, but you weren't even awake for most of it." He had to make light of the entire thing or he could easily find himself in a corner trembling as everything that had happened from the second day of being in Fisher's Cove finally caught up with him.  
  
"Well, my mind might not miss it, but my body sure does." Then he proceeded to attack the food like a ravenous wild animal, hardly pausing to chew before he swallowed. Vegeta just watched him with a look of fascination on his face.  
  
After he moved the tray to a small wooden table beneath the room's only window, Kakarotto talked Vegeta into cuddling with him. Although the prince had done almost nothing but hold his lover while he was unconscious, it was incredibly embarrassing to do it while he was awake. But he evetually relented since his body was crying out for the contact. It felt infinitely better to hold Kakarotto when he was able to hold him back.  
  
"The healer instructed me to fetch him when you woke up. It won't take very long."  
  
"I wish you didn't have to go," he said so quietly that the words almost held no sound. He folded his hands in his lap and looked down at them as Vegeta dressed. Without anything to distract him the memories were free to come again. He didn't want to remember how Fisher's Cove had looked as the fires ate away at it. He didn't want to remember the ceremony and the way the ritual knife had felt cutting deep into his body. He didn't want to remember that he had failed the entire world.  
  
"There was nothing you could do," Vegeta said firmly from the doorway.  
  
Kakarotto looked up and pasted a false smile on his face. "I know," he lied easily. The prince frowned, but did not try to correct him.  
  
When he left there was nothing else to distract him from his grief. The tears ran unchecked down his cheeks, made even more poignant by the lack of sound accompanying them.  
  


***

  
When Vegeta returned, he was surprised to see Kakarotto downstairs at a table. He was dressed in a clean tunic and pants as well. The healer came in after him, clucking his tongue to see his patient up and about so soon.  
  
"Good morning," Kakarotto said. "You must be the one who's been taking care of me." He smiled with gratitude. "Thank you so much."  
  
"It was no problem. No problem at all." The healer was an older human man with kind eyes that Kakarotto immediately knew he could trust. He bustled over and began checking his temperature via his forehead and started to raise his shirt to examine the wound that was scheduled to have its stitches removed any day now. Kakarotto squeaked when the old man's fingers had grabbed the bottom of his shirt, but he allowed him to look beneath it since his body was blocking it from the view of curious patrons.  
  
"Everything's fine," the healer said, patting Kakarotto's shoulder after he lowered his tunic into place. "You're very lucky."  
  
This caused him to grow serious. "Yes, I know."  
  
Vegeta took the healer aside, then, to pay him what he owed... and then some. "Without you he would have died," he said in explanation. "Nothing could ever repay you for that, but this might be a start."  
  
"You don't have to do this. It's my job."  
  
"I insist." They stared at each other for a long moment, neither budging on his position. Then Healer Harin sighed and took the small pouch full of money. "Thank you." Turning back to Kakarotto he said, "Take care of yourself, young man. If not for your own sake then for the sake of your soulmate." Both Kakarotto and Vegeta were startled by what he'd termed the prince. "I know more than just the art of healing," was his only response.  
  
After the healer left, Vegeta took a seat across from Kakarotto. "Are you really feeling all right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The monosyllabic answer surprised him. "You don't sound like you are."  
  
"Vegeta, I was taken against my will to a place where they cut me open and removed the one thing I was supposed to protect. Then I almost died from infection due to someone's sloppy stitching job." He stared down at the table, unable to look at him any longer. There was something else bothering him as well. He had just noticed it between the time Vegeta had left and returned with the healer and hadn't yet had the time to come to terms with it.  
  
"Kakarotto, please tell me what's wrong. And don't try to say that it's nothing because I can see the truth on your face."  
  
"Vegeta..." He looked up and his eyes were wet with tears that had not yet fallen. "I can't feel my magic anymore."  
  
At first he thought he hadn't heard him correctly. "What?"  
  
"When I woke up those times after they took the Key, I hadn't paid much attention, but then today, after you left, my mind was too clear and I had no distractions so I took the time to assess the situation." He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. "There's no way I can stop them now. Without my magic I'm useless!"  
  
He was at his side in an instant. "Talk to me, Kakarotto. How is such a thing possible?"  
  
"It's not! I mean, it shouldn't be. It hasn't ever happened in the history of my clan... until now."  
  
"Wait," Vegeta said, holding up his hand. "Before you have a breakdown, let's step through his logically."  
  
"I don't see what good it will do. My magic is gone and I don't know how to bring it back."  
  
He held up his hand again. "As I understand it, you were born with magic. Correct?"  
  
"Yes. We all are except for the very few who aren't for one reason or another."  
  
"For as long as you have been able to recognize it for what it was, it has always been inside of you, am I right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then what makes you think it isn't right now?"  
  
Kakarotto was very calm when he spoke, but it was a calm that was borderline to hysteria. "How about the fact that I can't manipulate it to my will anymore? Or the fact that removing the Key from my body probably has something to do with its absence? God, Vegeta! I'd never thought the Key actually looked like a key, you know, but I'd never thought that it was a creature and that it had been living inside of my body!" His voice had risen gradually both in volume and in pitch from the second sentence onward so, by the time he finished speaking, his voice was loud and shrill.  
  
The last sentence made him pause, but the curious stares from the few people in the inn at such an early hour spurred him into motion. "Come on, let's go upstairs. You don't need an audience right now."  
  
"Okay," he sniffled, rubbing at his eyes with his fists like a small child.  
  
When Kakarotto was, once again, firmly ensconced in the bed, Vegeta paced and tried to figure out just what was going on. No matter how he looked at it, Kakarotto's claim that he'd lost his magic didn't make any sense. Neither did his claim that a living creature had been taken from within his body. He wondered for one terrifying moment if the infection had returned and the fever was causing him to imagine things again.  
  
Shaking his head, he refused to think about it for the moment. "Where do you want to go next?"  
  
His lover blinked as he was distracted from his thoughts. "What?"  
  
"We can stay here a few more days until you think you're strong enough to travel again. I was thinking of someplace warm."  
  
"We can't run away, Vegeta. There isn't a place in the world where we can go to escape what's coming."  
  
"What's coming?" Vegeta felt that he had to sit down for this one. "I thought you said that the Key opened the door to paradise."  
  
"I did, but it doesn't make sense anymore." He absently began to chew on one of his knuckles. "If all they want is to lead their people to someplace wonderful, why were they not above killing thousands of people to do it? Why did they take me by force and steal the Key from me?" He began to frown. "Whatever their true reason, I have a feeling that it definitely won't fall into the 'noble' category."  
  
"What can we do to stop them, if anything at all?"  
  
His frown grew more pronounced. "The only possible way to stop them is by magic and there are few people left outside their race who have it anymore. They would have to be powerful to oppose so many mages and to completely overpower their corrupted magic."  
  
"So you say we can't do anything, but you're still going to dwell on the fact that they must be stopped." He was goading him on purpose, trying to get him to explode and release the grief he was keeping bottled up inside. Maybe after the catharsis he would be more willing to believe that there was absolutely nothing he could have done to prevent what had happened to him.  
  
"Of course I am!" he shouted with a look on his face that clearly said he thought Vegeta was being cruel. "Do you know how many people are going to die? Fisher's Cove is as good an indicator as any that the Kir are more-than-willing to crush anyone standing in their way."  
  
"The Kir?"  
  
"It's their name for themselves," he said distractedly, "though few know it." He threw back the bedcovers and struggled to rise.  
  
Vegeta reached over and grabbed his thigh right above the knee. "What are you doing?"  
  
"What does it look like? I'm going to get up. I can't lie here like an invalid when the Kir are seeking the gateway."  
  
The prince's head was starting to hurt. For the past ten minutes they seemed to have gone in several circles. "So you're going to try and stop them?"  
  
"No." He gently removed his hand and got to his feet. After swaying unsteadily for a few moments, Kakarotto regained his balance and went to get his shoes.  
  
As much as he loved him, he seriously wanted to strangle him right now.  
  
"Then what are you doing?" he asked from between clenched teeth.  
  
"I'm going to go home and do a little research," he explained as he began to work on his other foot. " _Then_  I'm going to tell the people living near the gateway to run for their lives. Saving the world really isn't on my agenda, but if I'm the only one who can do it, then so be it."  
  
"Home?"  
  
"Back to the swamps where I belong." He straightened and grabbed their packs. "Shall we be off, then?"  
  
Vegeta had absolutely nothing to say. He simply stared at Kakarotto for a second or two, a half-smile on his face, then pushed himself to his feet. "Yes. Lead the way, Kakarotto. I'm eager to see where you grew up."  
  
Smiling slightly, Kakarotto answered, "Well, you won't have to wait very long."


	11. Chapter 11

They tried to get him to stay with the others, but Alain refused to be put off. Both Vegeta and Kakarotto both had told him that they weren't going on an adventure, that there was a chance he may die, but he refused to be deterred. Eventually Vegeta gave in with a sigh and informed Kakarotto that ensuring their companion could defend himself was his job. Kakarotto smirked and informed him that he would be joining them.  
  
After leaving Janan, they spent every morning training before the heat of the day had time to settle in. Vegeta had done such things before as an adolescent, but once he'd reached adulthood he had ceased to train as often. He and Alain both quickly learned that Kakarotto was a demanding taskmaster. He didn't set forth something he knew they could not complete, but he did push them again and again until they finally mastered the move. The end of the first day left Vegeta and Alain sore, though the prince didn't look half as bad as their former guide did. Alain looked as if he would drop dead at any moment.  
  
"I'd planned to spend the evenings in training as well," the teen had said at the end of the first day, "but I don't think you're up to it." Alain had looked at him as if he were crazy and wondered aloud if his body would ever stop hurting. When he received the answer from his trainer that more exercise was the best cure, he collapsed upon the ground with an overly-dramatic groan.  
  
It was little moments like that that helped to keep the darkness at bay. Kakarotto wasn't healed, not by a long shot, but he was slowly getting there. As each day passed, and there was no sign that the barbarians had begun their March of Death, a little more weight was lifted from his shoulders.  
  
By the third day they were well into the swamps. Kakarotto's old village was actually on the farside where the unusable land gave way to grassland, but close enough that they still felt as if they lived within the swamps. After seeing how miserable his two companions were with all of the insects buzzing around, Kakarotto called for a break and went scouting for plants. He gathered up several medicinal-smelling ones and ground them up into a paste that he told Vegeta and Alain to spread over their exposed skin. Mere moments after they did so, they each noticed a significant different in the amount of small winged creatures that were bothering them. Kakarotto informed them that the salve was from an old recipe and all of his people had used on themselves before spending any time outside. The thought of them made him sad (as it often did), but he quickly shoved the feeling aside.  
  
"Are you okay?" Vegeta said quietly while Alain pretended to be preoccupied with making sure there was no clear patch of skin left.  
  
"I will be." He rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve. "Thank you."  
  
After an hour's break they continued onward over the soggy ground that sucked at their boots and threatened to them off completely. In addition to the insects that gathered in giant clouds over the murky water, the stench of decaying plants and animals was intense. After only a few steps into the marshes, Alain had gagged and rushed back out. It took the blunt words of Kakarotto to draw him back in again. To go around the swampland was to add a week onto the journey.  
  
Due to the fact that there were few places where one could stand solidly, Kakarotto temporarily limited training to upper body movement only. He taught them effective ways of blocking and how to penetrate the blocks of their opponents. He had to admit that Alain was really getting the hang of things, much to his relief, and Vegeta was as good at combat as his physique and grace suggested. But he was rather limited in his way of thinking. Back home in his father's castle, his trainers had taught sword fighting and hand-to-hand as two completely separate skills instead of intertwining them together to make them more effective. It was hard for him to use them together as naturally as he used them apart even when doing so might one day save his life. Kakarotto was patient with him. Although he did not know how to use a sword, he forced Vegeta to get used to using his hands and feet while still wielding his weapon. Several embarrassing maneuvers later, he was finally getting the hang of things.  
  
The following day, Kakarotto surprised them by bowing to a tree. He simply stopped walking and turned to the ancient silver maple and bowed in reverence. Upon closer inspection, Vegeta discovered that there were strange markings carved into the tree. They were barely visible due to the effects of time.  
  
" _Nohin e Kul_ ," Kakarotto whispered. "Home of the Guardians.  _My_  home."  
  
"Not anymore," Vegeta said gently, placing a consoling hand on his shoulder.  
  
Kakarotto stared at the writing that announced the start of Nohin territory, his mind lost in bittersweet memories. "No," he sighed, "not anymore."  
  


***

  
It was clear that no one had lived there for a long time. While not as ancient as some of the ruins on the planet, it had the same sense of emptiness and mystery. Kakarotto winced upon entering the village proper, muttering something to himself about lingering spirits. Vegeta and Alain could also feel the weight of the massacre that had taken place four years before.  
  
In one way,  _Nohin e Kul_  looked as if its inhabitants had merely stepped out for a moment and would return soon.  
  
They made their way up a wide street that entered into a central square. Most of the buildings faced this square, but there were houses that had been built years after the initial founding that did not. As they passed a small home with yellow curtains in the front windows, Kakarotto paused again. He stared at it as tears pooled in his eyes to trickle down his cheeks. Vegeta knew that the house he now looked upon had been where his lover had lived. After a brief look at Alain, he realized this as well.  
  
Vegeta moved forward slowly to stand beside him. "Do you want to-"  
  
"No. There's no time. If I go in there, I'll just become lost in my memories."  
  
"We can make time. You've never returned here after you found everyone dead. I think you need closure."  
  
He laughed bitterly. "'Closure' won't bring them back."  
  
"But it will bring  _you_  back. Since the Fisher's Cove Incident, you've practically given up your identity. If your mother was still alive today, would she even recognize you?"  
  
Behind them, Alain moved away to give them space as quietly as he could. He could sense that the conversation was heading into very troubled waters.  
  
"I did what I had to do to survive. Nothing is more important than protecting the Key, not even my own sanity."  
  
"And you did protect it." Vegeta wanted to pull him into his arms and never let go, but had a feeling that any comfort he offered would be refused. "You protected it as long as you could."  
  
"They were able to obtain it anyway. All of my effort meant nothing."  
  
The darkness could no longer be held back. It reared up and washed over them both in one giant wave designed to overwhelm.  
  
"You gave everyone a little more time with their families, their friends, their lovers. If things  _do_  go badly, and the barbarians discover the gateway, we can remember the times we had together in our final moments and the end won't seem as bad. But we don't know for sure that the barbarians are capable of finding it. Hell, we don't even know if their intentions are bad despite the lengths they'll go to to get what they want. For many people, the end  _always_  justifies the means." The rest of what he said was important, maybe even more so than what he'd said before. "You are going to take the rest of the day to remember. There's nothing at all wrong with doing that. Alain and I will make camp somewhere else and come to get you later. I hope you'll use this time wisely."  
  
Kakarotto bit back the sarcastic comment he started to make and simply nodded.  
  
"Good." Vegeta kissed him softly on the lips. "I love you. Always remember that."  
  
He waited until they were out of sight before turning back to the house, then he took a deep breath and strode up the pathway before he lost his nerve. The spirits were the thickest here.  
  


***

  
There was nothing interesting to talk about so neither of them said a word. They scouted around for a building that appeared to be official enough to house the documents Kakarotto was searching for so that he had one less thing to do once he emerged from his old home. Alain found the library, Vegeta found the council house. When they returned to the square to share their findings, they quickly debated over a plan of action. Neither of them could read the language of Kakarotto's people, the  _Nohin_ , so they probably would have no idea what they were looking at even if they happened to find it. Instead they decided to set up their bedrolls in the library due to the fact that it had more room to stretch out in and the floorboards were covered in rugs.  
  
The patterns on them were brightly colored and didn't seem to represent anything in nature at first glance, but a closer inspection revealed that the angular shapes were, in fact, people and animals and plants. The designs were almost child-like in nature, but the intricate detail that comprised the borders spoke of maturity.  
  
Vegeta spread out his bed roll, sat down upon it, and stared at the wall. He felt uneasy being in a city where so many people had died needlessly and Kakarotto's increasingly unpredictable moods weren't helping things.  
  
"Vegeta?" Alain's voice trembled very slightly from fear. "Are we going to die?"  
  
"Eventually." He smirked and glanced over at him. The other man was not amused. "All things have to die sometime."  
  
"You know what I mean."  
  
He sobered quickly. "Nothing's guaranteed in life, you know? They could find their paradise tomorrow and kill everyone in this world, or they could never find it. And even if they don't, that doesn't mean that someone else won't come along and do worse things than they did. You can only do the best you can with the amount of time you have to do it in. If it turns out that we only have a week left, then I'll be glad I met you and Kakarotto and that we at least tried to stop the end of the world from happening."  
  
Alain remained silent for a long time just thinking things over. He sat with his back against the wall and with his legs drawn up to his chest as if trying to make himself small enough that no one would be able to find him. "Nothing I have ever been told about Saiya-jin could have prepared me for you two. You're a little cynical and sarcastic at times, but you have a good heart. And Kakarotto..." He trailed off, shaking his head in wonder. "He's just  _good_. There's no other word good enough to describe him. It's like my entire world has changed since I met him, and not just because my hometown was destroyed and my family was killed. When he smiles it's like the day instantly grows brighter." Alain smiled softly to himself, but it faltered when he realized just how worshipful he sounded... and how badly his words might be taken by the man sitting nearby. "Don't get me wrong. I really like him, but not in the same way you do. I mean, I like girls."  
  
The prince smirked at him again. "That's good. I really didn't want to have to kill you."  
  
He laughed loudly for a moment, but it soon tapered off. "You're joking, right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good."  
  


***

  
Everything was exactly how they'd left it four years ago. Maybe the would-be thieves were able to sense the sorrow of  _Nohin e Kul_  and had left to find better prospects. Maybe no one had come across the village in the entire time it had been empty. Kakarotto hoped that the truth was the latter. The village was a sacred burial ground that should not be disturbed by those seeking to desecrate it.  
  
Walking through the house was hard for him, but he still did it. In every room he could vividly remember something special to him. The comfortable central room was where he and his parents had relaxed after a long day of training and working. He and his friends had also spent plenty of time playing in there when the weather was bad. His bedroom at the back of the small house still contained all of his toys and his clothes and his keepsakes like his rock and bird feather collections. Sniffling, Kakarotto picked up a small shirt and wondered how he had ever been able to fit into it. That thought caused the dam to finally burst and the tears to escape down his cheeks. He sat down on the edge of the small bed and cried for his lost innocence.  
  
When he was finished feeling sorry for himself, he left his old home and wandered around the city. He visited the training hall where Master Totepo had pushed him beyond his self-imposed limits and proved to him that anything was possible with a little hard work. In honor of his memory, he took a seat on the woven reed matting on the floor, his legs crossed, and meditated. He wanted to find the courage to stand up to the barbarians and prevent them from bringing about the death of the world. He was only one person yet it seemed to be his responsibility. After all, it was he who'd had the most compatibility with the Key.  
  
His magic may be gone, but his strength was not. As long as there was still breath in his lungs he would still be able to fight, even if it was only in a very small way. To the memories of all those who'd died to defend him, and to the lives of the people who would die by his inaction, he owed that much.  
  
His mind now free from doubt and filled with purpose, Kakarotto got to his feet and looked around the hall one last time.  
  
"Thank you, Master Totepo," he whispered. "Thank you for teaching me to believe in myself.


	12. Chapter 12

There was almost nothing left on the killing field after four years of rain, of snow, of sleet, of hail, and of wind. Here and there he could see fragments of bone made beige from the clinging earth amidst the greenery of plants that had grown healthy on the decomposition of the bodies. He was somewhat pleased that his people had done good things for the land even after they'd died and wondered why the tribe had not made it customary to bury bodies instead of cremating them. Ashes did no one any good as they were a waste by-product that had little or no organic value.  
  
He was hesitant to actually set foot on the battlefield. He knew intellectually that nothing could hurt him there, but that did nothing to quell his fear.  
  
As he stood there, he recalled the many different stimuli he'd experienced that day. The battle cries of his clan's warriors as they faced the barbarian threat head-on, the dying screams of those who had not been able to defend themselves. He recalled the feeling of his heart pounding in his chest in time to the clashing of swords and the trickle of fear sweat down the back.  
  
When his mother had found him standing in the square, frozen in place, she had hugged him desperately, her arms reluctant to let go. His nose had immediately picked up her familiar scent of vanilla, one that he had, for many years, associated with safety and comfort. But he knew that there was no comfort to give this time, and that he would be separated from everything and everyone that was familiar to him for his own safety.  
  
He also realized, as his mother pushed him towards the agreed-upon hiding place in the forest opposite the swamps, that he would never see them again.  
  
There had been nothing he could do for them back then, but he had done something upon his return to the village. And he would do so again, now, to let all of the lingering spirits know that he had not forgotten their sacrifice.  
  
Stepping farther out onto the plain, he raised his voice in song. " _Mahon Loc, Fahon Gaer, henai fuerlin bethol ni joai suun..._." Mother Sky, Father Moon, please welcome them into your home. They have had a long, hard journey and I deem them worthy of your paradise amongst our ancestors, the stars.  
  
As he sang the funeral song, he walked around the field, remembering. The position of certain bodies, of certain people, stuck in his mind. The final resting places of each one of his friends, his master, and his parents were touched gently and reverently before the song was finished.  
  
Before he returned to the village, he paused to silently thank his people for protecting him. He still did not think it was fair that he had survived and they had not, but what had happened, happened and no one would be able to change that. The very best way for him to say thanks, he knew, was to live what remained of his life to the fullest.  
  
It suddenly became difficult to see the plain. He thought for a moment that the sun had simply shifted position, but it was dusk so it had almost disappeared below the horizon. He blinked and raised his hand above his eyes to shield them from the glare, but still could not see. It was then that he realized that the light was not coming from above but, rather, from below.  
  
Small white orbs of light were rising up from the ground. They were misty, their outlines indistinct. Kakarotto watched in fascination as they danced in the air, slowly floating nearer to gather around him. He was not afraid, and it didn't occur to him once that, maybe, he should be. This was the graveyard of his people and the orbs had risen from it. He tried desperately not to attach a name to the phenomenon, but he wanted to call the orbs the spirits of his people.  
  
They drew closer still until he had to cover his eyes with his hands even after he'd allowed them to close. No heat was generated by them, nor any cold. It was like they didn't exist when he couldn't see them, sort of similar to the way moonlight vanished from existence when your eyes were closed. But he could feel something from them. As each one made contact with his body they passed into it and caused little bursts of warmth to erupt within his being. He gasped, throwing his head back with the intensity of it. As suddenly as they had appeared, the orbs vanished.  
  
Kakarotto opened his eyes and looked down at his body. He looked the same as always. He also  _felt_  the same after the warmth faded. Shaking his head in wonder, he slowly began to smile. He had received a precious gift, one far greater than he deserved.  
  
Whispering a word of thanks, he headed back to the village where his lover and Alain waited. He wondered if they would notice anything different about him. If they did not, it could just be his little secret.  
  


***

  
Alain was snoring and Vegeta contemplated smothering him with his own cloak. His nerves were already raw; he didn't need the added irritation of somebody's snoring.  
  
Sighing, he rose and moved towards the library's giant entrance doors. They not only dwarfed him by a considerable amount, but they also would dwarf Kakarotto as well. He supposed they were built that way to add to the importance of the library. He was starting to realize just by how immaculate the building was, and by the sheer amount of books, that knowledge had been very respected amongst Kakarotto's people.  
  
He opened one of the doors and stepped through. The sun cast its dying reflection on the windows of the buildings across the square, and illuminated Kakarotto's face as he came up the street. For the first time since they'd left Janan his head wasn't hanging down. When their eyes met, a smile spread across the teen's face and he quickened his pace to meet him.  
  
"I'm back, Master," he said in that way of his that always made Vegeta hard. It didn't fail this time, either.  
  
He allowed a little of the desire to bleed into his eyes. "So I see. Have you gotten all of the angst out of your system?"  
  
"As much as I was able." He took the few final steps forward that would bring him into touching range. Vegeta didn't hesitate to wrap his arm around his waist. They headed in the direction that Vegeta had just come from. "What have you and Alain been doing while you waited?"  
  
"We talked a little. He feel asleep. We would have also searched for the information we need, but we can't read your language."  
  
"That's alright; I have a good idea where it is." Kakarotto smiled when he realized where they were going. "It's not going to be in the library, though."  
  
"Oh? Why not?"  
  
"It's ancient and there's only one copy of it in existence. The Elders definitely didn't want a kid with sticky hands touching the book. If anything, it'll be in the council house. We'll go in the morning." His smile then transformed into a leer. "Do you think we can persuade Alain to go sleep somewhere else?"  
  
"Well, he's already asleep. As long as we don't make too much noise, he won't know a thing." The prince slid his hand across his back and grabbed a hold of his hand. "Come on."  
  
There were a few close calls that night, but Alain never woke up fully. And even if he had, they would have simply stopped moving beneath the blanket for as long as it took for him to return to sleep. Afterward, Kakarotto pleaded for Vegeta to remain inside his body as long as he could and they fell asleep still joined.  
  


***

  
Kakarotto tried to rise without waking him, but when you were wound so tightly around a person that you could not tell when your body ended and their's began, it was nearly impossible. Vegeta cracked open one eye to watch his lover dress, then closed it again when keeping it open became too much of a burden.  
  
"Don't take too long," he mumbled. "I'll have the boy cook up something for you to eat when you come back."  
  
He kneeled beside him and kissed his cheek. "I won't. When you decide to rejoin the world, the council house is the building with the writing over the door." The words were the code the members of his village had sworn to live by.  _All that we do, we do for the sake of the world._  
  
Vegeta sleepily nodded, then rolled over, burying himself deeper into the blanket. Kakarotto smiled fondly at the small lump before pulling on his boots and quietly exiting the library.  
  
Early morning mist swept the square and swirled around the foundations of the buildings. He had to pass by his old home to enter the council house, but he did not allow himself to stop. They only had enough food for a few extra days in addition to the return trip back to Janan. From there, they would restock their supplies and head to the location of the gateway.  
  
It was uncertain if any of the fields were still producing as weed-choked as they were. And even if they were, it would take some time to find vegetables that were healthy and untouched by vermin, insects, and disease. Better to complete their task and leave as soon as they were able.  
  
Kakarotto pulled open the door to the council house and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dimness inside. The floor was made of simple, unadorned wood and there was a desk off to one side where someone had always been stationed to greet petitioners. He had never actually been inside before since he'd had no reason to. Children in his village didn't usually have problems serious enough to warrant help from the Elders. And if they did, they went to their parents who, in turn, petitioned the Elders. There were two doors to choose from, one facing the entrance and the other on the wall to the right of it. He didn't know which to select, but supposed it didn't matter because there was no one around to admonish him for being intrusive.  
  
He walked over to the nearer door and peered inside.  
  
It was the audience chamber, a place he had only imagined entering before. Seven tall wooden chairs with padded seats sat arranged behind a solid wooden table. All of the chairs, as well as the table, had been stained a dark color and, once he'd swept aside a bit of the dust with his finger, saw that they were still highly polished. On the other side of the table were two chairs for the petitioners. They were less ornate, but just as padded and as polished.  
  
On the floor of this large room beneath the two visitors' chairs was a circular mosaic made of crushed stone that was hand-painted in minute detail depicting a tale he would have never thought to see. Even though a layer of dust that covered the floor as well, the shapes and colors shone brightly through. Yet it made sense that it was in the audience chamber the more he thought about it. A few of the scenes he could easily identify; the sealing of the gateway, for one, and the creation of the Key. He lowered himself to hands and knees to examine it more closely by the light of the windows, wishing all the while that he was still able to use magic. Natural light just wasn't good enough to view the mosaic by. He wanted bright white light that would illuminate every corner of the room, leaving nothing untouched.  
  
The first seven triangles were foreign. Nothing he had ever learned about his people's history could satisfactorily explain them. There were people in them that looked nothing like him or any of the people in his tribe, nor anything like Vegeta, whose people were his cousins. Neither did they resemble the humans. They were pale-skinned with ice blue eyes and blonde hair. Every one of them portrayed in the story wore a dove gray, cerulean blue, or seafoam green robe that covered their slender bodies from head to toe. The first scene depicted them in what he considered an example of their daily life, complete with farmers working in the fields and children playing. The next was more somber in tone. A haze of something darkened the horizon and people turned to look at it, most of them terrified. In a series of three panels a great battle took place that they could not repel. There wasn't a spot on the battlefield that wasn't stained red.  
  
The next was more hopeful. The survivors were packing up their belongings against the backdrop of their ruined village to start anew somewhere else. More had escaped death than he'd thought, but they were still fewer than what he would consider to be the size of a community. The expressions on their faces were grim, but determined.  
  
They settled down in a fertile land full of grasslands and trees. Their new homes were constructed of simple wood instead of the stone from before. The streets were merely dirt paths instead of the crushed white rock that had comprised the streets of the old village. However simple the village was in design, it was perfect to the Pale Ones and they began to work at recovering what was lost.  
  
Kakarotto's hand reached out to touch the next section. There were pieces of it missing and he wondered why. All of the previous scenes were flawless yet this one was not. Two medium-sized holes sat near the center and a large one was in the lower right corner so that all that remained was darkness. It was as if someone had purposely removed anything that could have identified the scene. He shook his head in dismay and moved on.  
  
A portal loomed in the next section, its edges indistinct and merging in with the environment around it. On the outside were Pale Ones in black robes this time, their arms raised to ward off evil. Within the portal he could see only darkness that was again marred by two missing pieces.  
  
By now he was facing the entrance, his back to the council table. He had gone around half the circle and had finally reached something he was somewhat familiar with.  
  
"Kakarotto." He hadn't heard the door open.  
  
He looked up and motioned for Vegeta to join him. "I never knew this was here."  
  
Crouching beside him, the prince examined the mosaic. "What is it describing?"  
  
"The truth behind my people's mission. Here is the portal, or gateway, that the barbarians are seeking." He pointed to the section he'd just looked at. "And here they are sealing it up. I don't know how they did it with the Key, now that I know what it is."  
  
"Hmm," was all he said.  
  
The next scene was the giving of the Key to Kakarotto's ancestors for safekeeping. But that wasn't the only thing they gave them. "Our magic," Kakarotto whispered. "The  _Wiit Betholea_  gave us our magic."  
  
"Perhaps to make you more efficient guardians?"  
  
"It didn't work, though. We still failed."  
  
Vegeta touched his shoulder. "Not yet, you haven't." Kakarotto nodded in agreement.  
  
The rest of the scenes were more than a little frightening. They were filled with violence and ever-encroaching darkness all the way up to the final scene. It stopped at a cliffhanger, an indication that the outcome was still uncertain. Neither of them wanted to consider them as such, but they knew they were looking at the future.  
  
"Look at the last one," Kakarotto said. A mass of darkness with the usual missing pieces loomed above an indistinct figure holding a bright light above its head. "A mage. I thought my clan was the only one who was able to use magic."  
  
Vegeta glanced at him. "How do you know that it's not a member of your clan?"  
  
"Because I'm the only one left and I can't use magic anymore." He said this in a way that clearly indicated that the answer was obvious. "There has to be another group of people somewhere who can manipulate the planet's energies."  
  
"If you say so." Secretly, he thought that being a hero was in Kakarotto's blood and that there was a good chance that person in the mosaic standing up alone against the darkness was his lover. "We should look for the book now."  
  
"Yes, we should." But the teen's eyes didn't leave the mosaic, not even for a second. He focused on the scenes of the future that spoke of misery and death and wondered if there was anything anyone could do to stop that from happening. He had seen enough senseless killing in Fisher's Cove to last him several lifetimes.  
  
Quietly, he stood up and brushed dust off the knees of his pants. "It must be the other door." Without another glance back lest he be tempted to study the mosaic once more, Kakarotto left the room with the intent of finding the book as soon as possible so that he could leave his old hometown. It was painful to be there. Every building, every  _step_  prompted another memory. He had to leave in order to preserve his sanity.  
  
It took significantly less time than he'd thought which enabled them to be back on the road after lunch. The small library in the back of the council house had been neatly organized and each document clearly labeled. To keep it from falling apart in his pack, he'd wrapped it generously in a couple of his tunics.  
  
It went unsaid that they were going to wait until they'd returned to Janan to examine the book and neither of them pressed him about it. After all, he was the only one who could read the language it was written in. Kakarotto simply needed a little time to distance himself from his memories.  
  
When they'd stopped to make camp that night on the opposite side of the swamp, Kakarotto found sleep long in coming. He lay miserably on his side facing away from Vegeta, wishing that he wasn't such a coward when it came to expressing himself. As he debated the pros and cons of sharing his thoughts with Vegeta, the decision was taken out of his hands.  
  
"The mosaic's bothering you."  
  
He sighed. "Yes. I really don't like what I saw in the last few scenes."  
  
"I don't either, but what can we do about it that's different than what we're doing now? Once we find out where the gateway is, we can do something to prevent the people living nearby from being killed."  
  
"Yes, I know."  
  
"Then go to sleep." He wrapped an around around his waist and pressed his nose into his neck. The familiar musky scent of his Kakarotto aroused the passion sleeping inside of him and he felt himself grow hard. Kakarotto felt it to, and slightly moved away.  
  
"Vegeta, can you just hold me tonight?" he asked.  
  
There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for Kakarotto, if he was able. And he knew that he needed to cuddle more than he needed to fuck.  
  
So he did.


	13. Chapter 13

Once back in Janan they'd gotten a room at the very same inn that they'd stayed in before. Not that Kakarotto had been aware of it, most of the time. A week's stay had quickly transformed into nearly a month and Vegeta had never been more glad to have been born a prince. He'd had more than enough money to pay the proprietor for food and shelter without having to touch what they'd stolen from the would-be thieves.  
  
The three of them sat around a small table in the dining room downstairs as Kakarotto examined the book by the light of a single candle. It was before the dinner hour when people would come down from upstairs and in from outside to eat, drink, and be loud. They were the only ones in the room.  
  
"It's like an entire part of our history has been ignored," Kakarotto muttered, mostly to himself. "It only talks about the Key and how we have to do our best to protect it. Any references to the gateway are vague, at best."  
  
"Does it say who created the Key?" Vegeta asked.  
  
"Not in so many words. In reference, they're always 'the creators' or ' _Wiit Betholea_ ' -- the Pale Ones."  
  
Vegeta grew very still and stared at him. "'The Pale Ones'?" he repeated.  
  
"Yes. Are you saying that you know something about them?" He couldn't stop the eager expression from appearing, but he  _did_  stop himself from leaning across the table. Alain looked interested as well; at least interested enough to stop daydreaming.  
  
"In Saiya we have stories about elves and how they once had vast magical kingdoms throughout the world. Most of them are just silly children's tales, but there's one that makes me wonder..."  
  
When he didn't continue right away, Kakarotto prodded him. "Well? Go on."  
  
He looked mildly embarrassed to be spinning a tale like a bard. "Once, the world was peaceful. No one went hungry, no one was enslaved, and no one fought over land, resources, or petty grudges. However, there was a small, war-like clan in the far east who detested this peace. They could only see the value in fighting for the right to exist and felt that those who thought otherwise didn't deserve what they had.  
  
"Wanting to teach the rest of them a lesson, the clan came up with an idea to force everyone else to prove their worth. They stole great books of magic from the elves and devoured their contents, teaching themselves dread magicks whose very existence was forbidden. It was using one of these spells that doomed them. They accidentally released a Darkness upon the land like no other, one that completely annihilated them from the face of the planet."  
  
Kakarotto wasn't sure of the last time he'd taken a breath. His entire body was tensed, eager to hear the words spoken aloud that matched the tale he'd heard so often as a child.  
  
"The thing they unleashed upon the world could not be stopped by ordinary means. It killed indiscriminately as it swept across the land, seemingly intent on a particular destination. Those who were able fled before it. Those who remained behind fought, but perished where they stood. When, at last, the Darkness ceased to spread, and had gathered over a single location, those who were once again able to see the sky breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"However, things weren't going to turn out as well for the elves.  
  
"The Darkness coalesced into the form of a great black dragon whose wingspan was greater in size that their entire village. It belched out flames from its lungs, reducing many of the buildings to cinders, and tore apart a great many of the population with its claws. When majority of the elves lay dead, and their village was transformed into little more than a smoking ruin, the beast transformed back into a creeping cloud and moved on as if carried on the wind. The few survivors that there were recovered as much as they could and left to start a new life."  
  
"I know where this is going." Of that, he was certain. As the prince spun the tale, he could literally picture the triangle sections from the mosaic in his mind. "They settle in somewhere new, but the 'Darkness' appears again. They somehow seal it away and everything is peaceful once more."  
  
Vegeta nodded once. "Yes. It's very similar."  
  
"What if-" Alain cut himself off when the eyes of his two companions immediately snapped to his face. He hadn't meant to speak aloud, but now that he'd begun... "What if there is protection on, or around, the gateway itself? The elves were an incredibly powerful magical race, right? They'd had the knowledge to create backup protection."  
  
"It's like you're saying that they figured we would fail!"  
  
"No, not at all. But it's better to be safe than to be sorry. Especially in a case like this."  
  
"Around..." It was now Vegeta's turn to be stared at. "We're assuming that the protection is magical in nature, correct? Something possibly to prevent people from locating the gateway at all instead of just being prevented from opening it."  
  
"It makes more sense to hide it entirely," Alain agreed.  
  
"Then I know where it is." His hands gripped his mug so tightly that the wood began to collapse from the pressure. "It's in Saiya. The forest around the castle was enchanted by the elves and said to have been given especially to us. Not only is it there and none of us had any idea, but  _we're_  supposed to be the final defense." The thought of that was ludicrous. His father's soldiers wouldn't be able to defend against an army of invading ten-year-olds. He was certain then, even more certain than he had been before, that they were all going to die.  
  


***

  
Against the better judgement of Kakarotto, they decided to wait until morning to set off. It would be best to have an entire day's light to travel by and not just torches fashioned from tree branches. Vegeta pointed out that he highly doubted that the barbarians had figured out where the gateway was in such a short span of time seeing as it had taken them a thousand years to find the Key. The teen frowned at him, but didn't say a word. There had been something in Ra Naga's voice that was more than just triumphant to finally have the Key. It had been as if the barbarian chieftain had figured he had won and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.  
  
Dinner that evening was tense. Everything Kakarotto ate seemed to turn to lead within his stomach, but he forced it down anyway, using the thought of being forced to fight for his survival soon as his encouragement. He had to keep his strength up. He didn't want to dishonor his ancestors by going down with hardly any resistance.  
  
Alain was quiet and Vegeta was moody. It didn't matter in the least that they were always that way; Kakarotto automatically associated their behavior with the fact that they would probably be going into battle soon. He wanted to order them to stay in Janan where it was safe while he traveled to Saiya alone but didn't say a word because he knew it wouldn't have done any good. Alain seemed to want revenge on the barbarians on behalf of everyone who'd lived and died in Fisher's Cove while Vegeta just didn't want him to fight alone.  
  
During the night, they made love as if the world was ending (which was a distinct possibility if the barbarians succeeded with their plans). Mouths sucked and nipped, tongues teasing patterns over sensitized skin. Fingers clutched with bruising force at backs and hips and thighs. When Vegeta sank into Kakarotto that night, it had never felt so wonderful and so saddening. The teen tried his hardest to lose himself completely in the simple act of arching his back to meet his lover's thrusts, but his mind refused to be shut down. Thoughts of gloom and doom tainted the experience that felt so wonderful and so awful at the same time and he could not stop himself from crying.  
  
"Don't do that." For some reason, it only made the tears come harder. "Kakarotto, come on." Vegeta started to pull out so that he could kiss his lover's face without bending the tall teen practically in half, but was halted by strong hands on his hips.  
  
"No. I love it when you make love to me." His eyes were still leaking, though not as much, and his voice sounded clogged with the contents of his nose. Vegeta wanted nothing more than to take his pain away (and maybe get back to thrusting), but knew it would take more than an orgasm to heal this wound.  
  
"Why are you crying?" he asked tentatively as if he didn't already know.  
  
His fists came up to rub his eyes. "It's stupid. We should get back to what we were doing."  
  
"If it was enough to make someone as brave as you cry, then it's something sex won't cure." He shifted once more to pull out and, again, Kakarotto would't let him. The teen rolled his hips beneath him, a determined expression on his face. Have an orgasm, or die trying. The clench of his muscles around his cock made Vegeta gasp and completely forget about withdrawing.  
  
Kakarotto became wild beneath him. An entirely different person. Not that he was ever passive during sex, but neither was he this unrestrained. He met Vegeta thrust for thrust, his hands firmly fastened on the prince's hips, short fingernails digging into his skin and leaving behind shallow cuts that welled with blood. When the prince wrapped his hand around his weeping cock and began to stroke it in time with his thrusts. Kakarotto's fingers squeezed tighter and his back arched one final time as he came with a loud moan. His entire body seized up, tightening with his release, and his passage was not left unaffected. Vegeta groaned as his cock was squeezed by his lover's body and let himself join him in peaceful oblivion.  
  
When he came back to himself, he was lying atop Kakarotto, still within his body. He nuzzled the damp skin beneath his cheek and wondered how long it would take his bones to regrow. "Kakarotto..." He mumbled. He received no response. "Kakarotto?" he said a little louder, raising his head slightly.  
  
The teen's eyes were closed tightly and his head was turned off to the side. He would have appeared to be dead if not for the color still in his cheeks and the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Vegeta turned so that he was on hands-and-knees and moved so that he up near the pillows.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing," he exhaled.  
  
"Bullshit. I know you're still worried about what might happen soon, and that nothing I can do or say will ease that worry, but this won't do anything except make you feel worse."  
  
"Don't you think I know that?" his voice sounded weary. "I tried and tried to make myself forget. I tried to focus only on you and what we were doing. It felt so good, you know. I love it when you're inside me. Vegeta..." He began to cry once more. "I don't want to lose you."  
  
"You won't," he promised, stroking his hair. One way or another, whatever the cost, he would find a way to remain by Kakarotto's side. It was a promise that he  _could not_  break.  
  


***

  
Vegeta was in the lead for their trip to Saiya as he was the only one who knew exactly where it was. He retraced his footsteps from a month before, back to decimated Fisher's Cove, back to Lios where he and Kakarotto had made love for the very first time, back to Hillys where he'd purchased his lover's freedom. The great elven enchanted forest was visible from Hillys as a dark smudge against lighter sky. They took the time to eat and drink in an inn far better than the Horse's Head (one that Alain discovered), emerging from the establishment around noon, eager to be on their way. It was Kakarotto that noticed something strange over the forest, something that floated upward lazily to merge with puffy white clouds.  
  
"I think the forest's on fire," the teen informed his companions. "I thought you said it was enchanted."  
  
"It  _is_ ," the prince responded. "But it's safe to say that few, if any, enchantments can withstand a barbarian magical assault."  
  
They made their way over the plain as quickly as they could, only to stop short a few hundred feet from the line of tall trees. There were no flames in sight and all assumed that the fire was farther in. After debating quickly, Kakarotto was sent ahead to scout out the best route around the barbarians.  
  
"I hope they're alright," Alain said, chewing on his lip with anxiety. The Fisher's Cove survivors had been sent this way.  
  
"They probably escaped to the castle," Vegeta said with far more confidence than he felt.  
  
Kakarotto returned about thirty minutes later, his face flushed and his eyes glittering with rage. "It's them, alright. It's looks like they've brought every warrior they have. I spotted the tail end of them, with the beginning nowhere in sight."  
  
"How are we going to get past them without going all the way around?" Vegeta asked no one in particular. "Goddamn it."  
  
"I have a way, but it's not going to be easy. Especially since my magic is gone." They turned to look at the teen, whose eyes were cast upward to the treetops.  
  
"You're not serious," Vegeta said flatly. "I get enough of being associated with monkeys, thank you."  
  
"How else are we going to get to the castle, then? Grow wings and fly?" Kakarotto pleaded with his dark, soulful eyes. "It won't be that bad. The trees are very old and sturdy, and they're growing close enough together that handholds will be within easy reach."  
  
Vegeta was still uncertain and it almost showed on his face. His eyes, however, told his lover exactly how he felt about things. "We don't have any other choice if we want to get there before they do," Alain urged.  
  
Rolling his eyes, Vegeta shrugged his pack off his shoulders and began to rummage around in it while the others watched him, curious. After a few moments, he located what he was searching for and pulled out a pair of leather gloves. "I'm not cutting my hands up on that bark."  
  
"Oh, Vegeta," Kakarotto sighed, rolling his eyes. "Come on. There's no time to waste."  
  
So they took to the trees like little monkeys or flying squirrels. Kakarotto seemed to be a natural at it, leaping gracefully from limb-to-limb, using his hands -- and sometimes even his tail -- to catch himself. Vegeta turned out to be quite good as well (once he got the hang of it) and forced himself not to look at the way the leaves and the ground moved beneath him.  
  
Alain was the one who had several close scares, yet he continued onward doggedly. He might have been a few trees behind the other two, but he didn't want to give up. In fact, that was the  _last_  thing he wanted to do. He felt as if he was a part of something great, like he was racing off towards his destiny, and it was an exhilarating feeling. He opened his mouth to emit a loud cry of excitement, then quickly stifled himself when he remembered who was nearby. This was not a game, after all.  
  
A fairly small section of the forest was on fire as if the trees themselves were trying to hold it back. Through the smoke and the flames they could see the remains of rough buildings and fences: it was the settlement in Fisher's Cove survivors had created. Miraculously, they could see no bodies, only charred wooden structures.  
  
When the palace finally came into sight, Vegeta let out a surprised gasp. Every single warrior his father possessed looked to be on the gray stone battlements. The inner iron portcullis was down to prevent unauthorized entry, while the outer one remained raised. To the casual observer, the reason for that could be so that it didn't take long to allow someone inside, but Vegeta knew it was so that they would be able to trap a small force between the two portcullis. Once they could not escape, arrows would be rained down upon them until there was no one left standing.  
  
"Almost there," Vegeta said, relieved. His arms and legs were aching from the constant use of them. "Finally!" He lowered himself into a crouch in preparation to leap to another branch; Alain's voice stopped him.  
  
"Look there!" The young man pointed over to where a small group of men were emerging from the trees. Judging by their manner of dress, they were barbarians. A single man took the lead, while the other two flanked him, their weapons drawn. When lead man's mouth began to move with words they could not hear, Kakarotto let out a cry and drew the small dagger he had tucked into a sheath on his leg. It was one of the weapons he'd stolen from the bandits, one that he let fly with a snap of his wrist toward the barbarian mage below. He hadn't had much time to aim, but he wasn't looking to kill the man, simply break his concentration long enough for him to get down there. He didn't pause to see if he'd hit him before he began to climb down. Above him he could hear cursing from Vegeta and Alain whispering, "Holy shit!" over and over again in an awed tone of voice.  
  
He saw why he was so awed when his feet hit the ground.  
  
The mage had fallen over and was lying incredibly still, blood coating his pale skin. The blade had found a home in the side of his neck, much to Kakarotto's disbelief, and had nicked a major vein. The two men with him were back in the forest searching for the attacker with careful eyes. The teen took a deep breath, said a silent prayer, and launched himself into action.  
  
By the time Vegeta and Alain joined him on the ground, the two men were as dead as their comrade. Kakarotto, his face devoid of emotion and his body completely taut with alertness, motioned with his hand for them to follow. He began to run towards the castle at full speed, paying close attention to his hearing, which would alert them to any surprises hiding in the forest. The only thing left upon clearing the treeline was a wide swath of open land around the castle that was completely devoid of any form of vegetation larger than a small shrub to prevent enemies from having any kind of advantage. Until they were at least halfway across, they were completely at the mercy of any bow-and-arrow-wielding barbarians that happened to come up behind them.  
  
"Just keep running!" he shouted. "Don't look back!"  
  
He didn't. And he was fairly sure that neither Alain nor Vegeta did, either. That was why he never noticed the man down on one knee beside the thick trunk of a tree. It took Alain's strangled cry to tell him that something was seriously, seriously wrong.  
  
Time slowed down. It seemed to take an eternity for him to turn and see what was going on. Alain's face was white, his brown eyes wide in his head. He couldn't see what was the matter until he collapsed onto his knees, first, before slowly sinking forward onto the ground. Behind him was a barbarian warrior wielding a crossbow, a cruel smirk on his face. He reloaded the weapon quickly and raised it again, this time pointing it at Vegeta's heart.  
  
Kakarotto could not move as the man's finger began to squeeze the trigger. He could not move even though he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Vegeta's life was in grave danger. His body felt tight and hot as if he was wearing a woolen tunic two sizes too small in the middle of summer. The barbarian's finger finished signing his lover's death warrant, the bolt flung forward from the force of the string. Someone was screaming as if their heart was breaking -- a wordless, anguished cry -- and then, inches from Vegeta's chest, the crossbow bolt caught aflame. The fire incinerated the wood almost instantaneously and small bits of black ash fell out of the air to land at Vegeta's feet along with the bolt's metal point. The screaming stopped as abruptly as it had begun when Kakarotto gasped in shock at what he had somehow done. Then he heard the sound of a crossbow being loaded once more, and the flames were cast over the barbarian, who shrieked when they hit him. He felt no remorse at watching the man burn. Because of him, Alain was now dead. Because of him, Vegeta  _could_  have been dead.  
  
"Kakarotto, Kakarotto." Vegeta's hands were on his upper arms, shaking him. "He's dead, Kakarotto. He's dead."  
  
"I know he is." His eyes were red and felt raw, but he would not allow the tears to come. "That bastard killed him."  
  
"No,  _Alain's_  alive. The  _bastard_  is dead."  
  
The flames vanished with this revelation. "Alain's alive?" He was numb with shock.  
  
"Yes, he is, but he won't be for much longer if we don't get him to a healer. Help me with him." He led him like a child to the still form of the young man who had become their friend. Kakarotto stared at him, amazed to still see him breathing. The bolt was sticking out of the middle of his back below his shoulder blades.  
  
He lifted him as gently as he could but it still caused him some pain as indicated by the weak moans he emitted. Kakarotto's arms lay under his chest and his waist, his hands curling up over his side with his fingers resting on his back, while Vegeta carried his legs. They carefully, but quickly, made their way to the castle where help could be found.  
  
"He'll be okay," Vegeta said, his voice shaking slightly. Alain may not have contributed to the conversation very often, but he had still been a steady presence by his side.  
  
"Yes," Kakarotto agreed with everything he had. "He will."  
  
The two of them hurried on, racing against time to save a life that might already be gone.


	14. Chapter 14

Both of them had practically been shoved out of the room. The healer was a stern, no-nonsense woman who refused to allow anyone to watch her work. She claimed that observers made her nervous, which was pretty bad for the patients. Kakarotto and Vegeta stood outside near the door, wincing at every groan that Alain made but happy that he was still alive enough to produce sound. That was where the king found his son. And, judging by the expression on his face, he was not very pleased to see him.  
  
"Vegeta." The king stopped a few paces from his son and simply stared at him. He hadn't seen him for a month and a half, the longest time they had ever been apart. He took note of the shadows lurking within his eyes, and how new frown lines marred his features. He saw a young man who had seen things no one should have ever been forced to witness, but he had survived them. And the king was more proud that words could express.  
  
King Vegeta looked almost identical to his son. Or, rather, his son looked almost identical to him. He was a little taller and sported a beard, but his hair also swept upward like a onyx flame from the widow's peak that formed the lowermost point of his hairline and their bodies were equally as small-boned. He wore a black tunic with silver stitching and black pants with a matching black cape with silver lining fastened over his shoulders.  
  
"Father," the prince returned, bowing his head slightly with respect. He did not bow at the waist as he had before he'd left home. He now considered himself an equal to the king. They both had been tested by life, and both had passed. "How are you?"  
  
He only sighed and shook his head. "They've been out there for a few days, just watching. Possibly waiting for something or someone. Those humans you sent to us a while ago headed here when the Kir came upon them and set fire to their settlement. Almost all of them were able to escape."  
  
"That's good," Kakarotto murmured. This caused the king to focus his attention on him.  
  
"I don't believe we've met before. I am King Vegeta. You are?"  
  
"Kakarotto." He blinked in confusion when both Vegeta continued to stare at him. "What...? Oh!" He bowed hastily at the waist, blushing. "I'm sorry. I've never met royalty before." He blushed brighter when it hit him that his lover was, in fact, the prince of Saiya. "I meant to say that I've never met royalty who wanted to be treated in a special way. No, that's not what I meant to say. I meant-" The prince covered his mouth with his hand before he made an already bad situation even worse.  
  
Vegeta suddenly felt as if his father should know exactly what they meant to each other. While being with someone of the same gender wasn't exactly looked down upon in Saiya-jin society, it was assumed that all sons and daughters of noble birth would marry someone of the  _opposite_  sex and produce children as soon as possible. He was a prince, after all, he wasn't allowed to choose his own destiny. At the very least, he figured his father would let him have Kakarotto as some sort of male mistress after he married, but he couldn't do that to him. He couldn't make him feel like he was only second best. If he had to, he would give up the crown and the kingdom to be with him.  
  
"Father, I met someone on my journey. Someone special."  
  
The king's eyes narrowed speculatively. "I see."  
  
"I know you won't approve, but it's my life to do with what I wish."  
  
"Vegeta, do you honestly think that we have time to discuss this now?" he asked dryly.  
  
Shaking his head, the prince said, "No, Father. Of course not." He cleared his throat. "We came here to tell you about what's happening outside. The barbarians are seeking a gateway so that they can free some sort of creature?" He looked at his lover for confirmation.  
  
"I don't know if it's really a living creature, but I  _do_  know that it's evil and should never be allowed to roam the planet again. The Pale Ones, who we now think are really elves, imprisoned it and the gateway is here in the castle somewhere. Vegeta and I have to protect it with everything that we have."  
  
The two of them watched as the king's face transformed. His eyebrows drew downward and his lips pursed before he spun on his heel and stalked off down the hallway. They wondered what they should do for only a moment before the king flicked his hand in a gesture for them follow. Feeling a lot like small children, they trotted after him and tried to catch up.  
  
The king led them to the audience chamber. It was large and completely empty save for a very large and ornate throne on a raised dias near the back of the room. A rich red carpet edged with golden thread led up to the steps of the dias from the wide doors.  
  
"Father, what is going on?" Vegeta asked, coming to a stop before him. He had to tilt his head up to meet the king's eyes, something that never failed to annoy him.  
  
"I should have told you, but my own father never said a word about it until he was on his death bed." The man shook his head. "What if he'd died suddenly and I had never found out?"  
  
His words were scaring him. His  _tone of voice_  was scaring him. "Father...?" he asked hesitantly.  
  
"Vegeta," his father sighed, briefly closing his eyes. "I know what you're talking about, possibly even more than you do. It's true that the elves entrusted us with a gateway to another realm where the Dark One is being kept, asleep and benign. We were to be the last line of defense in the event that our cousins in the east somehow lost the Key. Unfortunately, over the years we, as a people, forgot that. Everyone became more and more slothful as peace became more and more like a permanent thing. I don't know if we can repel them. And, even if we do, who's to say that someone else won't come along and pick up where they left off?"  
  
"Sir, if I may speak." Kakarotto was affected enough by the imposing room that he felt like giving the king all of the respect his station urged.  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"If you talk like the war has already been lost, then it will be."  
  
"What should I do, then, since you seem to have ideas?"  
  
The prince spoke up to ward off the impending argument. "Father, we've been to his home and discovered a mosaic on the floor in the council house. It depicts the battle that the elves fought with this darkness, and goes on to predict that one person will stand alone before it. Do you have any magic-users on your staff that I don't know about?"  
  
"None. You know I don't give much credence to it."  
  
He turned to his lover hesitantly. "Kakarotto..."  
  
"No. I refuse to believe it."  
  
"You heard him: he has no mages. And you've got your power back now."  
  
The teen's expression was stubborn. "That was a one-time thing. I can't feel it within me like I used to." Vegeta blew out a frustrated breath and opened his mouth to try again, but his father interrupted him.  
  
"There's something I should show you." He rose from his chair and headed to a door set into the wall behind the dias. "We've had it for a long time, but no one has been able to read it. Time and time again one of my predecessors thought to discard it, but something stopped them each time. It's important, and I'm fairly sure that it relates to our current problem."  
  
He led them down a narrow back hallway that was only lit with small lamps. Vegeta immediately recognized where they were and knew thath is father was taking him to his personal study. Of course the book would be there. It wasn't the sort of thing you could keep in a publicly-accessible library, after all.  
  
The style of the bare stone walls never changed from area to area, but they were broken up occasionally by tapestries and by the lamps. Not once did they pass anyone else as they walked, but that particular hallway was one that was seldom used by even servants unless there was an audience or a banquet being held. It was a more direct route to the kitchen from those two chambers, but not from the small dining room that the king and his son normally used.  
  
They entered the study. It was a good sized room, but dark from lack of windows and lack of lit lamps. King Vegeta lit the lantern on his desk and picked it up, carrying it to the back of the room where his bookshelves were. He held the lamp up close, reading titles, forced to search for a book he had only seen a few times before. It had almost faded from his mind, but its air of mysteriousness had ensured that it would not fade entirely.  
  
His fingers wrapped around it, sliding it carefully from between two unrelated tomes. It was old; the leather cover that bound it was dry and cracking with age. He handed it to his son who hovered nearby, then returned the lantern to his cluttered desk. "I'll leave you to it, then."  
  
He was almost out the door when Kakarotto said, "Our friend... Will you tell us if anything changes?"  
  
"Yes," he murmured, "of course." The door closed with a quiet click.  
  
Vegeta's fingers were delicately flipping the thin pages. The ink was faded, but the words and illustrations were still legible. He recognized the Pale Ones from the brief look he'd gotten of the mosaic, but he couldn't say if they looked anything like what he'd expected elves to look like due to the robes all but engulfing their slight forms. The shapes of the letters resembled the ones he'd seen carved into the tree outside of Nohin e Kul, which meant that the book was definitely written in the language of his lover's people.  
  
He turned another page and gasped softly when an illustration of the mosaic was displayed across two pages. It was more crude, possibly even the sketch on which the detailed mosaic in the council house had been based. He silently passed the book to the young man looking over his shoulder, knowing that he could not read the notes inked into the margins.  
  
"The blueprint," Kakarotto whispered, confirming Vegeta's suppositions. He turned the page and there was a closeup of the first section on one page with detailed information about it on the other. Eyes wide with excitement, he turned a few more pages until he was at the picture of the first section of the mosaic that had missing pieces. It was complete in the drawing. Two green eyes stared at him from the darkness, the pupils a vertical slit like a cat's, or a snake's. In the lower right corner was an androgynous person with long light-colored hair and ears that were pointed at the tip. They were wearing a type of robe he associated with the Pale Ones, a simple split-necked affair with an attached hood. The figure's eyes were cast upward in an expression of abject terror.  
  
"He looks almost exactly like the stories say," Vegeta said quietly. "The elf, I mean."  
  
"Was that piece taken so that we couldn't identify the Pale Ones, then? 'The Dark One'," he read aloud, "and one of the  _Wiit Betholea_." He flipped a few more pages until he reached the final drawing, pausing only briefly on the one with the portal. He could fill in the missing pieces easily without even looking -- they were the eyes of the Dark One -- but it was the person in the image that he focused his attention on. He didn't want to believe it, but there was no one else with magical talent within the castle.  
  
Somehow, he still had his power. That didn't make any sense, unfortunately. After they removed the Key he couldn't feel it anymore. He'd thought that, perhaps, the Key was what had given him his ability in the first place. Now that he knew it was still there, he would have to relearn how to manipulate it.  
  
"Vegeta, can you show me a place that will be free from interruptions?" he asked quietly. "I need to relearn how to access my magic at will again."  
  
The prince nodded, relieved that he finally believed that he was the one in the mosaic. "Is my bedroom okay? No one should have any reason to go inside."  
  
"It's fine." He smiled, but it trembled around the edges. "I don't know what the outcome will be of this battle, but I'm going to try my best. Please come get me if anything changes out there."  
  
"I will." Vegeta took the book from him and placed it on his father's desk. He then proceeded to take Kakarotto's arm, hoping that his touch would calm him. "It's not very far."  
  


***

  
He darkened the room by drawing all of the heavy brocade curtains. It was a very large space with a bed big enough for three people to sleep comfortably in, a wide mahogany desk and chair, and an armoire. The bare floor was made of stone like the walls, but there was a large area rug made of rich greens and golds and browns covering majority of it. Vegeta told him soon after they'd entered that he often used the space to train when the weather outside was horrible. The unoccupied space could easily accommodate a light sparring match between the two of them.  
  
After his lover left with a promise to return around dinnertime whether anything happened or not, Kakarotto sat down on the rug and folded his legs. He had an idea to revisit every meditation technique his departed master Totepo had taught him from early childhood to early adolescence. It was bound to take hours to find his center again, but he would not be of any use against the Dark One otherwise.  
  
Kakarotto closed his eyes.  
  
  
  
Vegeta went in search of his father to find out what had been done already in preparation for the inevitable barbarian attack when a shout went up from the front gate. It was too late to check with him, but hopefully the soldiers remembered enough of their martial training to successfully stop them from completely overrunning the castle. He heard the distinctive high-pitched sound of metal on stone, followed by several pained screams, and nodded in satisfaction. The portcullis were working, at least.  
  
As he walked the deserted hallways, his mind was busy trying to come up with ways to aid the soldiers. The castle did not have very many men who were able to fight, but he had a feeling that the barbarians would show up in droves and armed for bear. Could they honestly repel an attack? Maybe the first wave, but what about the second, and the third? They had mages, after all, and there was no one in the castle with magical ability save for Kakarotto and he was currently unavailable. He sighed as he exited outside onto the battlements, making sure to keep his head down.  
  
  
  
Thoughts rose to the forefront of his mind unbidden making it very hard for him to focus. Distantly he could hear the sounds of battle, but did not acknowledge them. If it was urgent then Vegeta's hands would be on his shoulders, shaking him to bring him back. As he felt nothing of the sort, he allowed himself to sink even further within himself, searching for his magic.  
  
It was there. A faint tingling on the edges of his perception that had once been a warm comfort much like a thick fuzzy blanket. Whenever he'd decided to cast a spell before, he'd had no doubt that the magic would respond exactly the way he'd wanted it to. Now, however, his trust in it was shaken almost beyond repair. He wasn't sure if  _any_  spell he consciously decided to cast would work and that was often the undoing of a mage. After all, what was a mage without his magic?  
  
He searched for that place deep inside of him that would anchor him to the source of this foreign gift. For it was the same, yet different. This time it would take a bit more coaxing to get it to cooperate.  
  
  
  
After finding his father amongst the archers and their lieutenants, he quickly told him about the barbarian attack on Fisher's Cove, recommending that the soldiers retreat from the battlements. The Kir would not have to get very close to blow up the wall and, if Ra Naga was around (and Vegeta seriously doubted that he wasn't), then there would be a magical shield around the enemy that arrows would not be able to penetrate. The king appeared to think about all of this carefully, but eventually decided that the men would stay exactly where they were. "Would you have them overrun the castle?" he asked his son.  
  
"No, Father, I wasn't suggesting that we abandon our defense entirely, but there's nothing to be gained from their needless deaths."  
  
"Since you seem to know more about the art of war than people twice your age, what would you have me do?"  
  
Vegeta took one look at the mocking expression on his father's face and sighed. There was no getting through to him. Hopefully not too many soldiers would die from the king's mistake. The barbarians numbered far too many for him and Kakarotto to handle alone.  
  
Suddenly the shouts of the Saiya-jin soldiers stilled and an ominous hush fell over the battlements. Vegeta shifted position so that he was on his knees and peeked over the stone wall to see what had caused everyone to fall silent. What he saw was disheartening.  
  
A long line of barbarians were advancing on the castle, Ra Naga leading them. If their chieftain was heading them he knew without a doubt that the invisible wall he'd failed to break through a month ago was up and that nothing would be able to stop the mages from casting the explosion spells that had done so much destruction in Fisher's Cove. Vegeta pushed himself to his feet and dragged the king up with him.  
  
"Father, we have to go  _now_ ," he said firmly. To the men he shouted, "Retreat! Your prince commands it!"  
  
A few of the men paused to see what was going on, but most ignored him. He was not king yet and they didn't have to listen to him if their own judgement didn't think it was a wise course of action. Vegeta growled and glared at his father. "Command them."  
  
"You're forgetting your place, son," the king responded from between clenched teeth, but he did order the men down from the battlements. And none too soon.  
  
The mages finished chanting their spells and stone began shaking around them. Vegeta and his father had just finished descending the stairs to the courtyard when an entire section of the wall collapsed and the barbarian warriors began pouring in. The king drew the ornate sword that hung at his side, but his son darted through now disorganized clusters of Saiya-jin soldiers and vanished into the castle.  
  
The final battle was now upon them.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's another graphic violence warning for this chapter. Last one, I promise.

Vegeta didn't receive a response when he pounded on the bedroom door so he kicked it open. Kakarotto was still sitting exactly where he'd left him in the very same position, only now a faint white glow had surrounded his entire body. He didn't want to disturb him, not when things finally seemed to be falling into place for him, but there was no time to waste. The Kir were going to break through the Saiya-jin defense -- it was only a matter of time -- and they had to find the gateway before they could guard it.  
  
Biting his lip, he made a quick decision to leave him to his meditation for just a little while longer while he went to retrieve the book and scour it for clues. It was somewhere in the castle, they all knew that now, but  _where_?  
  
' _The forest is here to protect the castle and its inhabitants,_ ' he thought, trying to work through the problem. ' _And the inhabitants are here to protect the gateway._ ' Slowly his eyes widened as something occurred to him. "Which probably means that the gateway was here first! The only thing that was here before the castle was the land it's sitting on. Is the gateway underground?"  
  
He slammed the book shut and hightailed it back to his bedroom. The door was still wide open, he could see that from down the hall. He could also see the lone Kir warrior entering the hall from the front staircase. Vegeta slowed his footsteps and slid his sword from its scabbard. The barbarian was closer to where Kakarotto sat completely oblivious to his surroundings. He was checking into every room, probably searching for innocents to slaughter. Vegeta gripped the hilt of his short sword tightly, nervous sweat slicking his palm. One false move and he could alert the man to the presence of a victim yet there was no time to descend the back stairway and sneak around behind him. The prince was truly between a rock and a hard place.  
  
"Wake up, Kakarotto," he said without breath as he crept down the hall. "Come on. Don't let that bastard hurt you." Vegeta never before wished so strongly to have magical ability or at least a set of throwing daggers along with good distance aim. He wondered how effective rushing the man would be. Maybe he would be able to surprise him long enough to take him down. Hopefully he was not one of the magically gifted Kir because one good spell would be able to take  _him_  down.  
  
"Goddamn it," Vegeta cursed harshly. He had absolutely no good options and time was running out. Raising his sword, Vegeta ran down the hallway as quickly as he could. The thick stone muffled his footfalls and he was able to get reasonably close to the warrior before he was noticed. Trapping the other man in the doorway of a guest room, Vegeta swung his blade with the intention of beheading him, but the blow glanced off the iron spirals decorating the man's wrist guard. Vegeta fell back just enough so that he had room to swing again and it allowed the Kir enough time to draw his own weapon.  
  
"I don't have time to fight you," the prince growled as he deflected his enemy's attack. "You're nothing in the grand scheme of things." The barbarian, unsurprisingly, did not respond.  
  
Their swords clashed again. Vegeta braced his feet and tried to shove his opponent off-balance so that he could end the fight quickly. While he was preoccupied with searching for an opening above, he never noticed the foot that darted out and knocked into his own. Vegeta felt his feet go out from under him and he fell hard to the floor.  
  
The Kir advanced, his sword poised to strike. For a moment, all that Vegeta was able to focus on was the pain from the stone coming into forceful impact with his spine. It felt like his entire body had gone numb. He took deep breaths to push past the pain and struggled to raise his foot up high enough to come into contact with the Kir's groin. Not the most manly of fighting techniques, but incredibly effective nonetheless. At least it  _would_  have been incredibly effective if Vegeta had gotten a chance to execute it. As it were, he was barely able to gather enough energy to avoid the blade of his sword.  
  
"Isn't your leader missing you?" he asked desperately. Anything to distract his enemy. But the Kir was too focused on his goal. The sword was raised again and Vegeta took a big risk. As it descended upon him once more, he reached out and grabbed the blade with his left hand before he had gained too much momentum. It cut deeply into his leather glove then into his flesh, severing quite a few tendons and blood vessels before hitting bone. Vegeta hissed from between his teeth but would not allow any other expression of agony to escape. While the barbarian was momentarily stopped, he brought up his sword and stabbed forward, sliding it into his gut then upward between his ribs. The Kir stared at him blankly for a moment, then stared down at where only the hilt of Vegeta's sword protruded from his body. A dark stain was spreading rapidly outward on his tunic from the wound. He sank slowly to his knees then fell backward onto his back.  
  
Suddenly the man smiled. "My death has served our cause well," he whispered, coughing up blood.  
  
The prince's blood ran cold. "What are you talking about?" he asked sternly. When he didn't receive a response, he crawled forward and grabbed the man by his shoulder with his good hand, shaking him. "Answer me!"  
  
"You've wasted too much time with me," he said finally, his words emerging thick and wet. "By now, Ra Naga has opened the gateway. Soon our lord will be free once more!" A blissful smile spread across his face then even as the light dimmed from his dark eyes. In another moment, his stare was fixed on nothing, his eyes as empty and as dead as a doll's.  
  
But Vegeta was not there to witness it. He ran to his bedroom where Kakarotto was just now emerging from his meditation. His hand was refusing to be ignored any longer and the pain was invading his nervous system to the point that he almost couldn't function. He grabbed a shirt from one of his drawers and set about removing one of the sleeves to use as a bandage. Unfortunately it was awkward with only one hand.  
  
"Vegeta, what in the world happened to you?" Kakarotto asked in shock. Blood slicked the prince's skin until his hand was only a mere outline in a sea of red. He grabbed his lover's wrist and pulled him into the bathroom to wash away the blood.  
  
"There's no time to go into it now. There's not even enough time to do this." Vegeta tugged on his arm to try and get it away from the teen, but Kakarotto wouldn't let him.  
  
"It'll get infected if you don't let me take care of it properly."  
  
"If we don't get down to the dungeon as fast as we can, infection will be the least of our worries!"  
  
Kakarotto forced him to stay still while he gently pulled off his glove and washed away the blood. When the wound was finally revealed, he made a low sound of horror in his throat. "What  _happened_  to you?" he asked again. The wound was gaping. Without stitches there was no way it would close on its own. "You have to go see the healer. If you don't, you might even lose function in your hand."  
  
"There's no time," he repeated insistently.  
  
"Bullshit," Kakarotto growled. "I don't care if the entire world's on fire. If there's a chance that I can prevent you from being seriously injured, I'm going to take it."  
  
The prince gazed up into his eyes and knew that there was no point in arguing further. There really wasn't any time to waste. "If I go to the healer you have to go down to the dungeons and stop Ra Naga. He's close to opening the gateway. Can you do it?"  
  
Nodding, Kakarotto said, "I think so. I won't know for sure until I get there."  
  
"Good enough. Take the back stairs down, head right. Across from the kitchen there will be another stairway hidden behind a door. I don't know exactly where he'll be down there, but I expect you'll be able to sense what's going on." Vegeta pressed his lips together firmly, shoving down the emotion that was welling up. "Take my sword. I know that you don't have any training, but I want you to have a last resort in case your fists don't make an impact or your magic fails again. Kakarotto, don't take any unnecessary risks. I want you back alive."  
  
"I won't, I promise." After transferring the sword belt to his own waist, he did the very thing he knew Vegeta was holding back on. He bent down and captured his lips in a desperate kiss, a tear breaking free and trickling down between them both. "I love you, Vegeta."  
  
"Kakarotto, I release you," he whispered against his lips. "You're no longer bound to me. Heroes should not be slaves."  
  
The teen pulled back finally, knowing that if he waited any longer to do so that he might never separate himself from his lover. "I will  _always_  be bound to you. Never forget that."  
  
Then he was gone. Vegeta gazed at the doorway for a while afterward, wishing that he could be right by Kakarotto's side. He had little fear that his lover would fail to stop Ra Naga or, in the event that the worst-case scenario came to pass, stop the Darkness itself, but his natural instincts demanded that he be with his love. He needed to see for his own eyes that Kakarotto would be okay.  
  
As bad as his hand looked and felt, it would be a bad idea not to do what his lover had told him to do. He wouldn't be able to help him anyway and might even prove to be a distraction.  
  
"If you get yourself killed, Kakarotto, I'm coming after you." The only witness to this promise was himself, but he knew he would not break it. A life without Kakarotto was not a life worth living.  
  


***

  
There was no one around to stop him but he could hear the sounds of battle in the distance. As long as he could still hear the clash of blades and the battle cries of men he could have faith that the war wasn't lost, that the Saiya-jin were still rallying. It gave him hope that there was still time.  
  
Several women and children passed him on their way to find a safe hiding place. Some of them wore the plain, unadorned clothing of servants while others looked to be the mates and children of the soldiers. They only paid enough attention to him to decide that he wasn't a threat before hurriedly moving on. Ahead in the distance he could hear more feminine voices.  
  
He found the door exactly where Vegeta said it would be. It was made of very heavy dark wood and had only a hole where the lock should be. A quick glance down at the landing showed that the strong-looking lock was still intact but had been blasted right out of the wood.  
  
The stairs headed down into darkness. No light lit them save for what trickled in from the kitchen. He wondered if they were steep and if one misstep would send him plummeting to his death. A strange sound from below and the flickering of white light in the distance made him completely forget about the unseen danger.  
  
Kakarotto descended the stairs as quickly as he dared. They were, in fact, steep, but not as steep as he'd feared. The moment his foot hit level ground, he took off in the direction of the light at top speed.  
  
  
  
Vegeta couldn't find the healer and that was truly a shame since he felt dizzy and weak from blood loss. He'd made his way slowly but surely back to Alain's room only to find the woman gone and Alain asleep. There was a bored man guarding the door who had seen the woman leave, but he didn't have any idea where she had gone other than the vague direction of "right". There were a lot of things "right", far too many for him to count.  
  
So he assumed that she was with his father administering to the wounded Saiya-jin soldiers. The courtyard was a long way away from the second floor and he didn't know if he had the strength to make it there. He also didn't know if he would be able to defend himself against the Kir warriors who had, no doubt, invaded the castle. If he could just rest for a moment, he would start off again in a bit to find someone to stitch up his hand.  
  
Quietly, Vegeta fell against the wall and slid down it on his back to sit on the floor. His promise to Kakarotto would not be broken. He would be perfectly fine by the time his lover returned.  
  
Vegeta slumped, closing his eyes, and just as quietly fainted.  
  
  
  
The flickering light increased in intensity the closer he drew to the source. About half a dozen small, dust-ridden cells later, he came upon the barbarian chieftain Ra Naga who was in the process of opening the gateway. And, judging by the look of things, he had almost succeeded.  
  
Kakarotto stepped into the large cell cautiously. There were heavy magicks swirling around in there. He felt like one wrong move would be detrimental to his health. He brought up a hand to shield his eyes then tried to determine if he had a chance to stop Ra Naga from achieving his goal.  
  
The Kir's voice rose in volume as the portal of light grew larger. Kakarotto's entire body tensed with the need to act, but he didn't know what spell was being used or even if it would be safe to stop Ra Naga now that he'd begun. He also had no idea if he could reverse the spell once it was complete, but if he got rid of the Darkness then no one would find it a good idea to try and free it again. The only way to go up against it was to allow Ra Naga to finish even though it went against everything he'd ever been taught by his clan.  
  
There was a pause in Ra Naga's speech, then it picked back up again. It took a moment for Kakarotto to realize that the Kir was now speaking to him.  
  
"I see you survived your time in the desert," he said pleasantly without turning around. "Miraculous, really, considering how sloppy the stitches were and the fact that you had no provisions. I didn't want you to be sewn up at all, but Tet Suel thought it cruel. He paid for his kindness to animals, however."  
  
Kakarotto asked very quietly, "What did you do to him?" Even though he had performed a ceremony with him as the centerpiece, even though he had done an incredibly bad job stitching up the wound he himself had made, he could tell that Tet Suel hadn't wanted to do it. He hadn't wanted to hurt him but he'd had no other choice besides death. And, to Kakarotto, that was not an option.  
  
"If you really want to know so badly, you can ask him in Hell. You'll be headed there in just a few moments, anyway." Ra Naga had turned to look over his shoulder at the teen when he spoke his last sentence, but then he turned back to the portal as the spell reached its climax. The light grew to an intensity twice that of before and seemed to explode outward, temporarily blinding Kakarotto and causing Ra Naga to laugh with glee. It had apparently gathered enough energy to open the gateway and Kakarotto could see a world beyond the one he was standing in, a world of shadows.  
  
"The offspring of the Great One opens the door to our paradise. As long as I have it, my requests will not be ignored."  
  
"Don't you know what the Darkness will do to this world?" he asked in a final desperate attempt to halt Ra Naga's mad scheme.  
  
"Of course I know. But knowing and caring are two entirely separate things, aren't they?" Slowly, but steadily, he began to walk towards the gateway. "Better say your prayers. It'll all be over for you soon." He started to laugh again, but the sound abruptly ended in a croak. His dark eyes flew open wide and he stared down at the sword now protruding from his body. "You're not supposed to attack your enemies from behind. Didn't anyone ever teach you that it was bad manners?" His voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.  
  
"No," Kakarotto said as he pulled the blade free. "But, then again, they taught me hand-to-hand combat, not swordplay."  
  
His victim sank down onto his knees, hands coming up to clutch at the seeping wound. "It doesn't matter what you do to me," the barbarian said with a triumphant air. "The Great One will still be free." He maintained his fanatical grin even beyond his death.  
  
Kakarotto wiped Vegeta's sword on the man's tunic and re-sheathed it. He honestly didn't think he would need it in the upcoming battle, but it wouldn't hurt to bring it along. Better safe than sorry and all that.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the gateway and into the world of darkness beyond. It was cold, the kind that sank deep within you to latch onto your bones and never let go. He took another deep breath and the air nearly seared his lungs.  
  
"This is for everyone who has died because of this creature, or  _will_  die if I fail," he whispered fervently. Raising his head high, he set off to meet his destiny.  
  
  
  
The final flash of light from the opening of the gateway could be seen throughout the castle and its grounds. The soldiers on the battlements and in the corpse-ridden courtyard, both Saiya-jin and Kir alike, all looked up at the sky. When the battle began it had been partially cloudy, but now the clouds were darkening to black with flashes of white lightning occasionally brightening them. Within moments it was so dark that torches had to be lit before the fighting could continue.  
  
King Vegeta never removed his eyes from the sky. It was sinister and threatening. Unnatural. Perverse. And if that foreign Saiya-jin boy didn't succeed with his mission, they would be looking forward to spending the rest of their lives under this midnight sky.  
  
"Don't let any of them escape!" he bellowed at his men, wanting nothing more than to see the flagstones run red with Kir blood. If he could not personally kill the one responsible for all of this, he could at least vent his anger out on those who allied with him. Drawing his own sword, the King of Saiya stepped into the fray.  
  


***

  
He saw nothing save the dark sky and dead earth and heard nothing beyond the sound of wind rushing past his ears. But he could feel something hovering nearby, something very large and incomprehensibly graceful. It slithered around his body, sometimes reaching out to caress his exposed skin. Kakarotto shivered and desperately pleaded with his magic to respond as he spoke the incantation to create a light.  
  
The world lit up around him and he found that he was not where he was a moment ago. In fact, he was in a place that was very familiar to him and should have been impossible to return to. Everywhere he looked he could see men and women going about their daily business and children playing games in the street. It was Nohin e Kul, the Home of the Guardians.  _His_  home.  
  
The buildings and adults around him suddenly began to grow taller. He gasped, looking up at them with wide eyes. When two children ran up to him, smiling, their hands outstretched, he knew that it was not that they had grown taller, but that he had shrunk. He was now the same size he had been on that fateful day four years ago.  
  
"Come play with us, Kakarotto!" the girl said, tugging on his hand insistently. Ichigo looked exactly like how he remembered. Her wild black hair was pulled into two messy pigtails and she wore a little green dress, her feet bare. "Kabocha and I found something really neat in the forest."  
  
"Yeah! You  _have_  to come!" Kabocha tugged on his other hand. His hair was cut unevenly short as his father had simply taken a knife to it and hacked off large portions. He only wore a pair of pants cut above his knees. Both children were tanned brown from being outdoors in the sun all day, as was he. Once his training was complete for the day, he, Ichigo, and Kabocha had played outside until the sun went down for as long as the weather remained warm.  
  
Kakarotto blinked in confusion. Had? Why was he thinking of everything in past-tense? His friends were here, everyone was here, and the village was exactly the same as always. Why was he just standing here when he could be playing?  
  
The three of them ran off into the forest that cradled the village on three sides. The fragrant smell of evergreens assaulted Kakarotto's senses, bringing back memories of childhood. He blinked again in confusion, but quickly shook it off.  
  
Ichigo and Kabocha led him to a small gully where a creature had dug a burrow into the side of the hill. Ichigo held up a finger to her lips and indicated that he should look inside. Dropping to his knees, he did as instructed.  
  
It was dark and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. After a short while, Kakarotto could see the outline of a small creature within the hole. Luminous green eyes each with a slitted vertical black pupil stared at him. He thought it was a cat and reached out to pet it (not pausing to realize that cats weren't known to inhabit burrows) and the creature hissed at him, lunging at his hand with sharp, needle-like teeth. Kakarotto let out a startled cry and fell backward, the little creature following.  
  
In the sunlight he could make out midnight black scales and small wings as the creature rose in the air to dive at his body. Instinctively he raised his hands to protect his face as terror filled his body. He could feel something flowing through him like liquid fire to emerge from his palms at the little flying creature. It shrieked briefly then all was silent.  
  
He opened his eyes and looked around. There was no dangerous creature threatening to hurt him nor was there trees surrounding him, their branches forming a canopy over his head. His friends were gone as well, vanished like they'd never existed in the first place. As more memories returned to him, he realized that they  _hadn't_  been there. They couldn't have been because they had died four years ago. Narrowing his eyes, he looked around with intense suspicion. There was nothing to see, not really, unless dark endlessness appealed to him.  
  
Getting to his feet, he felt a heaviness on his side that indicated that Vegeta's sword had somehow returned. He couldn't see it, however. The darkness was so complete that he couldn't even see his hand in front of his face. If only he could make a light. There was something in the darkness with him, something he would very much like to be able to see.  
  
' _Please,_ ' he silently begged, ' _let my magic work again._ ' Taking a deep breath, he spoke the incantation and a small globe of white light appeared in his cupped palms. He willed it to become larger until it was the size of a small wagon then tossed it up into the air. It illuminated a small patch of dead earth around him, but could not penetrate any more of the darkness.  
  
"Very good," a deep, cultured voice whispered. Kakarotto spun around, his fists at the ready. There was no one around him; the voice was coming from a source still unknown. "I'm glad that you've retained some of your spirit. It's always disappointing when the prey doesn't fight back."  
  
"Who are you?" He shouted the question. "Show yourself!"  
  
His words elicited a chuckle. "Do you honestly believe that you're in a position to demand anything?" The voice caressed his ear one second and was coming from several hundred feet away the next. It really didn't matter whether or not this entity offered his name. Kakarotto had a feeling he knew exactly who he -- or it -- was.  
  
"Yes, you're right," the voice praised him. "I am exactly who you think I am, but not exactly what. You don't really know the answer to  _that_  question, do you? Allow me to reveal myself, then." And, with those words, Kakarotto's globe of light exploded.  
  
When his vision returned, he was finally able to put sight to sound. A black dragon was curled around him that was larger than most houses, its scales nearly indistinguishable from the darkness pressing in around them both. Two large green eyes with slitted black pupils stared at him from beneath protruding brow ridges with an expression that bordered on glee.  
  
The huge fanged mouth parted. "Am I everything that you expected me to be?"  
  
"No. The writings left behind by the elves don't go into detail about what the Darkness looks like."  
  
"What a shame." The body surrounding him shifted as the dragon moved closer still. "And now no one will ever know because you won't be around to tell them."  
  
Kakarotto gathered as much energy as he could in his legs, preparing himself to escape the confines of the dragon's body. "So you say." In a burst of movement, he jumped as high as he could, placing one hand onto the surprisingly cool scales on the dragon's back and vaulted over its body. He moved away as far as he could so that he had time to assess the situation. Things did not look good.  
  
Every part of the dragon's body that he could see was covered by scales that were incredibly hard (as his one brief touch of them had discovered). So far, he could only see one unprotected area and that was the eyes. And possibly the underbelly. However, neither of those potential targets were easy to get to.  
  
The dragon did not attack him while he stood there and that came as a surprise. Kakarotto had been on guard from the moment his feet regained contact with what passed as the ground in this world yet he hadn't needed to be. The Dark One watched and waited for a reason that escaped the teen's comprehension.  
  
"Why do you seek to destroy our world?" he asked, trying to stall for more time. He also hoped that he could get his opponent to lower his guard enough for him to strike.  
  
"Who said anything about destroying it? I want to  _own_  it. This world has no life other than my own. Without lives to play with at my leisure, I grow very, very bored."  
  
"The world on the other side of that gateway does not belong to you. It doesn't even belong to any of us. It can only belong to itself. I will die before I allow you to escape."  
  
"Then so be it," he intoned, whipping his tail towards Kakarotto at a speed that was surprising given his size. Kakarotto was able to dodge the first swing, but missed the second as the dragon quickly changed direction and reversed. It knocked him from his feet to land several feet away, his hands reaching out at the last moment to turn his fall into an awkward flip. He spun around to confront the dragon again, his hand reaching for the hilt of his lover's sword.  
  
The dragon seemed to grin at him. "The sword is not your weapon, youngling."  
  
"How do you know this about me?" Kakarotto wondered aloud.  
  
"I know because I dream. In this land of shadow and death, there is nothing to do  _but_  dream and some dreams are more interesting than others. I've followed your life because you fascinate me. I know your strengths and I know your weaknesses. There is nothing that you could do that would surprise me."  
  
He seemed so certain of this that Kakarotto began to falter. If there was no element of surprise then he didn't see how he could defeat him. His hand gripped the hilt of the sword tightly, but he did not draw it.  
  
They stared at each other. The dragon had a somewhat smug look while Kakarotto's face was one of growing despair.  
  
"How did you make me see things that weren't there?" he asked, trying to stall for more time. Distantly he could hear something that sounded very much like thunder.  
  
"They were there, once, and you wish to see them again. It was simple to do since you wish that things had turned out differently with all of your heart and soul. Sometimes spending so much time in the past blinds you to the present."  
  
The sound grew louder and was accompanied by tremors in the earth. High above their heads, flashes of what could be called lightning were visible, but the electric streaks were not white but a deep crimson. The ground shook again, this time hard enough to make Kakarotto stumble.  
  
"There's no time," the dragon rumbled. He rushed at the teen, his mouth open with the intent to do serious harm. Kakarotto finally drew the blade that hung at his side and raised it in defiance. When the Dark One was close enough, he lunged forward with the intent of impaling him, but found it brushed aside by one huge wing as if it were a bothersome insect. Kakarotto, his grip strong, went with it.  
  
"Now, it's time for me to leave before this entire place collapses around us," the dragon said. "Entrance into this world was meant only to be one-way."  
  
"I will delay you so long that it will be too late to find the gateway." Kakarotto's face was a mask of determination. "Even if I can't kill you myself, I can allow the forces here to do it for me."  
  
"You will die as well."  
  
"Then so be it." He threw the dragon's earlier words back into his face. "My death will have meaning if I take you along with me."  
  
The dragon emitted a deep bass growl of annoyance. "I don't have any more time to play with you." The wings on his back began to flex as he readied himself to take to the air. The lightning was coming with more frequency to the point that most of the sky was red, the thunder was quickly nearing a level that would make conversation impossible, and the restless motion of the earth ensured that Kakarotto would be better off crawling than walking. He pushed all of this to the back of his mind, however. There was only one thing he concerned himself with now and that was stopping the black dragon.  
  
He quickly ran through his mental catalogue of spells, searching for one that would be powerful enough to delay even something as large as the Darkness itself. As he had only been twelve when his lessons had abruptly been cut off, there were precious few in his repertoire that could get the job done. Murmuring the words to a fire spell, he tried to magnify it so that it would engulf the entire beast and watched it collide with the armor-like scales, disappearing into nothingness. He tried again with little success.  
  
By this time, the dragon was a fair ways above ground and almost out of his range. He followed him as fast as he could while weaving still more spells, all of them having a similar effect as his first -- that is, no effect at all. His energy was giving out and that would directly affect the strength of his magic, not to mention how closely he could keep up. The distance was slowly becoming greater between the two of them and he could now see the gateway in the distance. It was only a matter of time before the dragon would get there and Kakarotto didn't even know if he could get himself out to go after him.  
  
When he stumbled and fell the next time, he did not get up.  
  
As he lay there out of breath, his lungs and legs burning from exertion, images came unbidden to his mind. He could see his parents, his friends, his master, the village elders, and all of the other people that had made Nohin e Kul home. They were all trying to speak to him, their mouths moving soundlessly. They also all seemed to be patting their chests -- no; they were patting their hearts. Slowly, Kakarotto pushed himself up to his knees and brought one hand up to touch the place over his heart. Even through his tunic he could feel that his skin was warm, strangely warm, almost to the point of being feverish. As he held his hand there, a white light began to envelop it. It coalesced into an orb of softly pulsing light that sat in the palm of his hand.  
  
 _"Use us."_  It was a whisper that didn't come from without but from within.  _"Use us to defeat the Darkness."_  
  
A slow smile spread across his face. "I will. By right, this is your battle."  
  
 _"No; this is the battle of the Saiya-jin, of the humans, of the elves -- of **everyone**."_  
  
"Yes," he agreed. Raising his hand up to the sky he threw the glowing ball that was the collective spirits of his lost people in the direction that the dragon had flown. Everywhere the orb touched the darkness was driven away so he had a clear line of sight to the death of the dragon. The orb entered into his body, passing through scales and flesh and muscle as if it wasn't there, and tore him apart from the inside. That was the only way he could explain it. One moment the dragon had been speeding towards the open gateway and the next there were little fragments of darkness flying off into the areas that the light had not touched before he could even scream. Instead of vanishing after its job was complete, the little orb continued on a course to the gateway as if lighting the way for him. Kakarotto tried to push himself up from his knees to his feet and his arms gave out. The last thing he saw before falling into unconsciousness was the orb streaking back to help him.


	16. Epilogue

Things got worse before they got better.  
  
After the collapse of the gateway, and the aftershocks that swept throughout the world, everything seemed as if it would calm down. Life continued in the castle much in the same way as before after the soldiers who'd died in the defense of it were buried with honor. After a week or two of relative peace, however, word began to come in from the various villages and towns under Saiya-jin rule that things were far from being under control. They all tried to manage on their own but eventually was forced to petition the king for assistance. Vegeta sent as many soldiers as he could spare and hoped that would be enough. Unfortunately, things weren't going to settle down again for quite some time.  
  
The last of the Kir were ousted from the castle and put to work in labor camps. If they resisted, they were sentenced to death, their headless bodies put on display in the wide field before the castle as a warning to all those who would think to oppose the Saiya-jin Empire. There were quite a few bodies hanging on pikes outside the castle walls, but there were also quite a few warriors working in the fields and in the mines and quarries. The king hoped that the Kir would emerge in ten years completely reformed after being forced to temporarily abandon their warrior ways, but many of his advisors thought they would only emerge bitter and even more hell-bent on destroying Saiya. Well, only time would tell.  
  
  
  
Vegeta regained consciousness just as the concussion caused by the collapsing gateway had shaken the castle. He was lying in a makeshift bed in what had become the infirmary though it had been the great hall prior to that day. He sat up quickly, surprising the young apprentice healer who was helping one of the wounded soldiers nearby, and reached for his boots. The girl reached for him, but he shoved her hands aside. There was only one thought on his mind and that was to go find Kakarotto.  
  
The throbbing in his hand wasn't even acknowledged. He had more important things to worry about.  
  
He fought against the screaming, panicked masses of people who thought to flee the castle until he came to the entrance to the unused dungeons. They had been filled with tortured souls in the time of his great-great-grandfather, but in such a time of peace they had not been needed. It was pitch-black at the bottom of the stairs and the prince cursed before entering the empty kitchen to retrieve a torch.  
  
Kakarotto was lying in the far dungeon on his back, his eyes closed and his body very still. A small orb of glowing white light hovered over him as if worried, its floating pattern agitated. He'd glanced at it when he had first entered the room, but after a brief moment of surprise, he'd deemed it unimportant. The stone walls around him bore scorch marks, apparently from the earlier explosion, as did the floor. Kakarotto, however, was untouched.  
  
"I have to get you out of here," he murmured, refusing to believe that his lover was dead. He started to reach for him then realized that it wasn't possible to even lift him with one hand and the torch was required for him to be able to see where he was going. Cursing again, Vegeta pondered what to do.  
  
 _"We will light the way, warrior,"_  a voice whispered. It sounded strange as if dozens of voices were speaking at once, but only one voice could be heard. He didn't question it, only blew the flame out and tossed the torch to the stone floor. The light from the orb was more than enough for him to see by. It was as if a tiny moon was aiding him.  
  
He lifted Kakarotto up by the armpits, his hands curled over his shoulders, and dragged him to steep stairs. This close he could feel his breathing, but was still worried because it was so shallow. Step by step, he climbed the stairs backwards and maneuvered him through the still-open door. The orb followed him as far as the hallway, but it did not go any further.  
  
 _"He will recover, but he will never forget. Care for him well."_  
  
"I will," Vegeta promised, gazing fondly down at the boy in his arms. "I love him."  
  
 _"He is in safe hands."_  The orb of light floated down to rest briefly on Kakarotto's forehead before vanishing as if it had never been.  
  
The first thing Vegeta did after tucking Kakarotto into bed was to go check on Alain. The healer woman was gone and the room was dim. For a moment he feared the worst. Slowly, he walked over to the side of the bed, his eyes staring fixedly at the pillows. The prince let out a relieved breath when he spotted the young man there fast asleep, almost lost amongst the bedclothes. He was pale and drawn but was breathing with relative ease. With a relieved sigh, Vegeta watched him for another moment before returning to his room to curl up beside Kakarotto. He was afraid to let the teenager out of his sight for very long.  
  
In the time it had taken him to visit Alain, Kakarotto's state of unconsciousness had transformed into normal sleep, but it wasn't a restful one. He tossed and turned, twisting himself up in the covers and the clothing that Vegeta had never removed. It had taken his best effort to get Kakarotto up a flight of stairs because he was so much larger than he was and he had been grateful for the help of one of his father's soldiers when he'd gotten to the main floor. After removing his boots, he'd deemed him undressed enough.  
  
Vegeta didn't want to wake him, but he also didn't want him to choke to death in his own shirt. He approached the distressed teen and firmly grabbed his shoulders, shaking him briskly. "Kakarotto, wake up. Come on now."  
  
When he started to moan (and not in a good way), Vegeta became anxious. He shook him hard enough to rattle his teeth but he still did not wake. Kakarotto was trapped within a nightmare of his mind's making, unable to escape. And Vegeta was all out of ideas.  
  
"Kakarotto!" he shouted, hoping to penetrate the fog of terror around his lover's brain. It only made the moaning louder and caused Kakarotto to begin to fight him. Somehow, the prince thought, his mind was warping everything that happened to him in the real world before it transmitted it into his dream. Desperate now, the prince nearly ran to the cup that lay upside down on a small silver tray and flipped it over, pouring into it clear water from the nearby ceramic pitcher. He'd had no cause to believe it would be there as it had been every morning before he'd left since he hadn't slept within the castle walls in quite some time, but fortunately it was. ' _A servant must have dropped it off after we took off for the lower levels of the castle,_ ' he thought briefly.  
  
Without a moment's hesitation, he upturned the glass of water over Kakarotto's head. The boy awoke spluttering. "What's happening? Why am I wet?"  
  
"You were having a nightmare and I saw fit to wake you an alternative way when shaking didn't work." He took a seat on the edge of the bed, placing the glass on the bedside table as he did so. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Tired," he answered. "Worried. What happened after I passed out?"  
  
"The Kir are either dead or imprisoned and Alain's doing fine. You're a hero, Kakarotto. I knew you would be able to save the world." He smiled at him or, at least, came as close as he would ever come to doing it. "You have all the makings of a hero, you know."  
  
Kakarotto shook his head negatively. "I'm not a hero. I only did what I thought was best. What anyone would do if they could."  
  
"No, not anyone. Most people would have taken one look at the Darkness and ran away as fast as they could in the opposite direction. Even I came close to retreating, but I only had to think of you facing it to stop myself. You saved countless lives and defeated that evil for all time. Believe it or not, you're a hero."  
  
The teen sighed and gave up trying to convince his lover otherwise. He'd stood up to the dragon because he'd had no choice. The voices of the dead had made that perfectly clear. In truth,  _they_  had been the ones to save the world, not him. He'd only provided the bow; his people had been the arrow to pierce the dragon's black heart.  
  
Until the end of his days he would be in awe of what had occurred in the dark dragon's dread realm. He had never seen the likes of it before, had never known that such a thing was even possible. To have the spirits of his people help him to completely eradicate the Darkness for all time... It had been amazing. Few things, if any at all, would be able to top the glorious feeling he'd experienced when he'd avenged the death of his entire clan. And there would never be any more  _Nohin_  to hand down the traditions and stories he had grown up with because he found the thought of lying with a woman distasteful. He made a promise to himself to put that thought right out of his mind as he could do nothing about it. At least the Saiya-jin race -- nay, the world -- would live on.  
  
"Vegeta?" he said suddenly.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"What about your father? Is he okay with us?"  
  
The prince looked away, very uncomfortable. "I, uh, never told him."  
  
"Vegeta!"  
  
"Well, he had other things on his mind. Things that couldn't wait. And he still does."  
  
"We can't hide this, you know. Even if we try, some term of endearment or lingering touch will slip through our defenses and then he'll be angry because you tried to keep this from him."  
  
"I know," Vegeta sighed. "I'll tell him tomorrow."  
  
Kakarotto sat up, scooting down the bed a little so that he could swing his legs over the edge. "No. We're going to tell him right now."  
  
Vegeta looked at the teen now sitting beside him, marveling at how strong and resolute he still was. Most people would have collapsed beneath the weight of the things Kakarotto had been through. Knowing that Kakarotto believed that this was the best course of action gave him courage. "Alright then, we'll go right now. Anything for my prince."  
  
The teen smiled. "Thank you, Vegeta. If I have to be labeled a hero, then being able to stay by your side is the perfect reward for a job well done."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still can't believe that this only took me two months to write. Passport to Paradise was an experiment to see if I was still capable of finishing a multi-part since the last time that happened was in 2001. I have a bad habit of starting stories with multiple parts (whose parts have multiple chapters) and then going off to start more when another idea hits me.


End file.
